Capitol Kid by Bill Gourgey

Author:Bill Gourgey [Gourgey, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult Fiction
Publisher: Jacked Arts via Indie Author Project
Published: 2017-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

The next morning, I wake up to a clatter coming from the kitchen. With so much on my mind, I slept better than I expected. I even feel refreshed. Maybe it’s just waking up to a room with the sun shining in it, something I haven’t experienced for what seems like eternity.

I shuffle into the kitchen. It’s clear that Dottie’s not happy. She’s sitting at the small, round kitchen table in a tight pair of designer jeans, and a low-cut T-shirt emblazoned with expletives, while LaQuota’s frying up eggs and toast.

“Well if it isn’t the midnight rambler,” Dottie says sarcastically.

“That’s enough, girl,” LaQuota scolds. She turns to me. “Want an egg?”

I nod.

“Figures,” Dottie complains. “Next thing you know, he’ll be moving in with us.”

“Next thing you know, I’ll be smacking your bucket head with this,” LaQuota says, shaking her spatula at Dottie.

“He shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous.”

It’s clear I walked into a domestic dispute that revolves around me.

“You know where the coffee mugs are, Boot,” LaQuota says, ignoring Dottie and cracking another egg into the pan. It sizzles and smells good.

“You best save me some,” Dottie warns me.

“Girl, why don’t you go downstairs and get the shop ready.” The way LaQuota says it, it’s not a suggestion.

Dottie frowns at me, but gets up and makes her way out of the apartment. She makes sure to fill her mug of coffee on the way out.

When the door closes, LaQuota scrapes the eggs out of the pan and onto a couple of plates. She hands me a knife and points to the butter and toast that’s just popped out of the toaster.

A few minutes later, we’re sitting at the kitchen table together. I focus on my food and avoid eye contact, but I can feel LaQuota’s eyes boring into my skull.

“Why don’t you start with the part about beating Stang with a baseball bat,” LaQuota says between bites.

“It’s a long story,” I say, looking up sheepishly from my plate.

“I got all morning, honeybun.” LaQuota sits back and folds her arms as if to demonstrate the abundance of time I know she doesn’t have.

If there’s anyone in this world I know I can trust, it’s LaQuota. I mean, she’s all about making a buck and moving inventory, but she’s a self-made businesswoman, which means she steers clear of the street. Well, that’s not exactly true since she deals in stolen merchandise from the street, but she doesn’t ask questions and she doesn’t answer them. I know that whatever I tell her will stay with her. Plus, I don’t think she wants to jeopardize the well-being of her number one employee (not including Dottie).

So I tell LaQuota about how Stang started beating me on account of my mom being so far behind on her payments, and how the next thing I knew I had a baseball bat in my hand and was dishing out more than I was getting.

LaQuota snorts in her customary way, which means she approves, but I can see the look of concern in her eyes.

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