4 / Ashby

"I left with five hundred and twelve dollars and spent almost a hundred before I even got here," Ashby said. "I don't know how I'm gonna pay my rent."

She'd arrived not more than twenty minutes ago. She and Nikki were chilling on Nikki's bed in Nikki's room. A large ashtray, the TV remote, a blue butane lighter, and a pack of Newports lay on the bed between them. A movie on Lifetime, Ashby's favorite channel, was on but tonight she wasn't interested. The TV was muted. Each of them was smoking a chocolate flavored blunt. Ashby had been right; she needed the blunt wrap and Nikki had been down to just a half dime-bag of trees. The pepperoni pizza sat unopened on Nikki's dresser. The shoulder bag lay on the floor at Ashby's side of the bed. The little purple shopping bag sat undisturbed on top of the pizza box.

"Shoulda got a date," Nikki said. "Two or three even."

Nikki changed her position on the bed so she could better get at the ashtray. It was a careful movement for her, since her right ankle was still wrapped and presumably still sore. She's slipped and fallen from the top of The Girl House dancer's pole a few days ago. She hadn't been back to work since. Ashby figured Nikki'd be out for another week.

"Had a date. Deez. Took off with Nasty...fat ass bitch!"

Ashby was taking another hit off her blunt when she heard a light knock on the closed bedroom door. Then a louder knock, but the door didn't open.

"Hope y'all got the vent closed and the fan on in there!" It was Bean Bean, Nikki's aunt.

Her real name was Elizabeth, but everybody called her Bean Bean, since she was so tall and skinny. Bean Bean had taken Nikki in at age seventeen. That was more than two years ago when Nikki's own mother who was raising her alone couldn't cope with her wild and disrespectful ways any more. She'd tossed Nikki out in the middle of a cold February night.

Bean Bean was Nikki's absent father's sister and was a lot more down with things than Nikki's own mother. Twenty-five years ago, Ashby'd learned, Bean Bean had been a lot like Nikki was now. But the rough years had mellowed Bean Bean and now she had a nursing degree, a good job, a car, owned this corner single-family two-story house, and lived a comfortable single life. But apparently, she'd not forgotten what it was like growing up as a black teenage girl on the streets and took it real easy on Nikki. Nikki didn't even have to pay room and board unless she had it to spare, which Nikki had only half the time.

"Smoke's going out, Bean Bean," Nikki shouted at the door.

"Good," Bean Bean answered back. "And don't y'all eat all that pizza. Save me a piece for later."

"Okay," Nikki said.

Ashby heard Bean Bean walk away from the door. Nikki said Bean Bean was going out for the night with somebody she'd met at the hospital. Bean Bean always liked a little snack when she came back in, that is, if she came back alone. If she wasn't alone, she liked something else.

Ashby liked Bean Bean and wished that she could have known her when she, Ashby, was growing up, which she basically had to do on her own. Ashby was the product of unmarried, uncaring, and usually stoned parents.

When one or both of them wasn't in jail, she'd lived with one or both of them in a succession of rat traps until she was fourteen. That was when she ran away from home and school and lived with her twenty-year-old second cousin Pearl in still another rat trap in North Philadelphia. Her cousin continued her education in survival. It was in Philadelphia where she'd learned to play the sex card for all it was worth.

By the time she came back to Chandler more than two years later, she'd stacked enough money to rent her own place. The fact that she had a good fake ID and looked at least eighteen made that possible. With a fake ID and a management willing to look the other way; a management willing to payoff the right people; and horny customers who knew how to keep their mouths shut, it was no problem for an underage girl to work in a club like The Girl House.

Her place was a renovated basement efficiency apartment in a depressed block on Lena Street. It wasn't much, but it was hers. For the past two years, she'd danced her feet raw, usually at The Girl House, and taken at least two dates a month to keep it; there didn't seem to be anything else to do to make ends meet.

It was at The Girl House that she'd met Nikki, shortly after Bean Bean had taken her in, and they'd become best friends. Nikki, with a fake ID like most of the girls, had come in looking to dance. There was nothing special about their first encounter, but Ashby'd ended up showing her the ropes (what ropes there were to show) for a couple of days. They'd bonded like girls often do. And it had lasted.

Their hearts and souls were obviously compatible. But their minds and bodies were quite different. They were both pretty and about five-five, but Nikki was light-skinned and had hair like Aaliyah, except Nikki kept her's permed. Nikki'd never need a wig. Plus, she'd never need breast implants. But she had only an "adequate" butt.

On the other hand, Ashby was dark-skinned and had that stereotypical black, nappy hair that took an inordinate amount of time and styling gel to get looking decent. That made her prefer wigs. And Ashby had only "adequate" breasts, but her well-formed ass and tiny waist and visible hips made all the brothers do one-eighties when she walked past on the street.

The only real difference between them now, two years after they'd met, was their vision. Nikki gave no thought to the future. She simply had no long-term goals and lived from day to day without any serious thought about tomorrow. She believed she could dance and date and live off her Aunt Bean Bean for the rest of her life. Ashby, on the other hand, wanted her own setup like Bean Bean's: an education, a good job, a house, and a car. But she was really willing to settle for just about any situation that didn't force her to take dates to make ends meet. Towards that end, she'd taken what she believed was the first step. On two nights a week she went to class for her GED.