For the Love of Money by Omar Tyree Read Free Book Online Page B

gear— oversized bell-bottom jeans, a rayon shirt, and big shoes (call me a chameleon)—my telephone rang.
    I was hesitant to answer it. I had already told Mike no, and I didn’t have time for a chat with anyone else, but I answered it anyway, just in case it was something important.
    It was. Kendra Dayton was calling me from California.
    She said, “Tracy Ellison. What’s up, girl? My mom called and told me that you were ready to visit California. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. It’s the end of the school year, and you
know
how that can get.”
    â€œGirl, don’t even go there,” I told her. “I have
so
many horror stories.”
    â€œDon’t we all. We need a teachers’ mental clinic, right?” she said.
    I begged to differ. I said, “No, we need a
parents’
mental clinic.”
    â€œAy-men to that,” she responded and laughed. “Aaayy-
men!”
    I said, “Your mother told me that you loved teaching out there.”
    â€œThat doesn’t mean that I don’t have any problems.”
    I laughed. I could tell that Kendra and I would hit it off well if we lived in the same city. I didn’t even talk to her all that much at Hampton. We just chatted when we saw each other, but as we had ended up in the same teaching profession, it gave us more to relate to.
    â€œSo, can I crash at your place for a week, or what? Do you have a kinky boyfriend that I need to know about in advance?” I joked. I don’t know what was wrong with me, but sometimes I just said the first thing that came to mind, particularly when I was pressed, and I was pressed to see Hollywood.
    Luckily, Kendra found my joke appealing and laughed.
    â€œThey have a different kind of black man out here. They’re more laid back,” she said. “
Too
laid back sometimes. I dream every now and then of inviting out a few in-your-face Baltimore brothers from home.
    â€œâ€˜Hey girl, come here, yo’,” she mocked them.
    I smiled. “Do they use ‘yo’ for everything in Baltimore?”
    â€œYes they do.”
    â€œSo, you mean to tell me that guys out in California are not reallyroughnecks like they show in these movies?” I couldn’t believe that they could lie that much. Were movies
that much
make-believe?
    Kendra said, “Girl, do you think I would waste my time out here with
them
fools? Yeah, they have those crazy gangbangers out here, but I’m talking about
professional
and college-educated men, not no ’hood rats, but they
do
have them out here, and they are just as ignorant as they are in those movies.”
    â€œSo where do you live out there?” I asked her. I almost forgot about my poetry reading.
    â€œCarson. It’s right next to Compton, and right above Long Beach.”
    â€œSo you’re right in the midst of the music makers.”
    â€œYeah, and I’ll tell you something else too. All that crazy stuff they talk about in their music, they’re not even lying. Some of these people out here are downright foul, and they use the N-word, the MF-word and B-word in regular conversation.
    â€œOn the East Coast, at least we know when to change it up,” she said. “Well, they don’t change anything out here, and then they want to complain about a lack of jobs. Well, who wants to hire you walking around with plaits in your hair, your pants hanging down, underwear showing, no education, and a filthy mouth with no shame to it?”
    I didn’t realize that Kendra was so fiery. I didn’t know what else to say, but I realized that I was running late.
    â€œSo, when are you planning to come out here?” she asked me, right on cue. I had to go.
    â€œI guess in mid July or early August,” I told her. “I still have to buy plane tickets. Will you still be there this summer?”
    â€œYeah, I’ll be here. I have plane tickets to fly home to Baltimore next