“Ay, what’s going on, nigga?”
“They're saying Mr. Frank has Vertigo and keeps falling.”
“What does the color of his skin have to do with him falling?”
Hov laughed at my response.
“Nigga that’s Vitiligo. He has Vertigo, which is a condition where you get the sensation of your head spinning and shit. His daughter came over here and said it may be time for him to go to a nursing home because it’s getting bad. She says she is about to lose her job because she keeps having to leave work. Ciara found him a couple of weeks ago at the mailbox coming home from work.”
“Damn. That’s fucked up. I guess that shit is like being on a roller-coaster, walking around your house.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like.” We all stared across the way.
“Damn, I hope my daughter doesn’t send me or her mama to a nursing home once we start falling and shit.”
“I’m sure my Mir Mir will do it only if it’s in yours and her best interest.” Ciara laughed.
“But his daughter Vivian says she is a manager at a bank in Harlem and has two preteen kids to look after, so I do get her reasoning. She probably has no time to look after her family, her household, and his.”
“You're right, baby.” Hov followed
“I bet she sells that house as soon as he checks into that home. Especially being outside the city, a little bit. Y’all two should go ahead and put in a bid on that mutha fucka before she puts it on the market and pastor Davis crooked ass hears about it. Even though he will probably never want to do business around here again after dealing with me.”
“I don’t know Hov. Putting a bid in for that old house sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” Pernelle turned her nose up at the worn-down wood and overgrown grass across the street.
“P, it could look good with some work. My grandma's house didn’t always look like this, but with work, we made it look like something. Properties in New York are expensive, and renovation is the best way to get your bang for your buck these days.”
Hov replied to P, and I must agree, he was making a lot more sense than I wanted to admit.
“I can see what his daughter is asking for the house once she lists it P, and if it does sound like a good offer, then putting in work into a spot and making it ours doesn’t sound bad. Shit, we haven’t found shit else on our journey today anyway.” Pernelle twisted her lips but agreed with me.
“Plus, I’m sure your best friend wouldn’t mind her goddaughter staying a little longer during renovations if that’s the case, right, Ci?”
“Of course not.” Ciara smiled.
“And then after you do move friend, we would be neighbors and be able to meet up and gossip at the mailboxes like two bored housewives.”
“That does sound like life, doesn’t it?” They laughed with one another, slapping hands.
We all stood around shooting the shit some more until I noticed that Pernelle had got fixated on her phone. I watched her stare at her screen until she eventually walked over to me and handed me the phone.
“What’s this?”
“It’s him. Amir. He said he wants you to call him.”
I looked down at the phone and saw that he had sent a phone number to reach him at. I walked straight over to Hov and flashed the screen in his face.
“Yo, this is old dude, Amir. He hit her back. He says he wants to talk.”
“Alright, bet. Let’s go use one of the burners in my office and make that call then.”
Hov replied, and we walked into the house, leaving the girls out at the street still being nosey.
When we reached Hov’s office, he handed me a burner phone from one of the drawers in his desk. Hov sat on the top of the table while I took a seat in one of the chairs across from him. I dialed the number on speaker and let it ring a few times before the line picked up, and for a few seconds, nobody said anything.
“Who is this?” His voice finally came across the line.
“It’s Crew and Hov, who is this?”
