Excerpt from Skeezers R Us: "Sweet ride," grunted the brother with the fro, from the back. The nappy/dreadlocked brothers all nodded, whispering and giggling. Stoned. Excited with the hunt. "Shi-i-it." Drawled the huge man. "Stupid rich bitches. This is like shoppin for skeezers at Nordstroms." The guy with the fro, chiming in: "Skeezers R Us."
"There."
A deep, hoarse voice, from a huge, dark man sitting in the passenger seat of a long, plain white panel van. He pointed at a building across the street from where the van was parked, idling quietly at the curb.
"Those two."
Sunday, a little after noon. Church was letting out; all the sweet, rich white people, all dressed up in their Sunday best suits and dresses, done with service and streaming out of the old, red-brick chapel, their scrubbed pink faces flushed with the love of the Lord; scrambling down the steps, anxious to be the first to get to the parking lot to leave to be early and get a good seat for Sunday brunch; or standing around in small groups, chatting happily with friends and acquaintances. Laughing children took the time to play, scampering to and fro, running from each other and hiding from old women wearing too much makeup trying to catch and kiss them.
The huge man nodded in the direction of two women stepping off the church steps. "Headin ta th Land Rover parked overn the corner by the trees."
The other men in the van shifted in their seats to see. Nine heads swiveled: four shaved bald, one with a big, puffy 70s style afro, the others either short and nappy or dreaded-out. Ten altogther, counting the big man in the passenger seat. The vans suspension creaked and groaned under their weight. The driver puffed on a joint and cracked his window for a better look at the women his partner was pointing out: a chunky carrot-top in her mid-to-late thirties, with huge jugs bouncing around in a tight black turtleneck, a white silk scarf tied around her shoulders. A big, round ass that wa... Læs hele novellen
