Read Online 5 Minutes and 42 Seconds by Timothy Williams - Free Book Online Page A

struggle a little bit, but I got an apartment of my own. When I found out I was pregnant with Dream I had to drop out of school because I couldn’t afford no babysitter once she was born. There was no point in going to school up until her birth when I wasn’t going to graduate anyway. I didn’t think I cared, but the day I dropped out was the day I stopped dreaming at night. Sleeping was just a break in my day. A way to pass time between worrying about providing for my baby. That’s why I named her Dream, because the day I found out I was pregnant with her mine stopped. I figured I must have given them all to her.
    For ten long hard years I struggled to make ends meet, which for me meant hopping from one man to the other.I’m not a whore—I was in relationships with all of these men. The same way I was in a relationship with Dominique, only this time I was the one doing the using. As far as I’m concerned, there are no fifty-fifty relationships. If you are with someone, you are either the user or the used. I promised myself I wouldn’t let no man ever take advantage of me again. So much for that.
    Everything was fine for ten years. I’d have a boyfriend, and he’d pay all my bills and shit for a year. Then he’d get frustrated because I was still exploring my options. It’s like a car. You can only drive one at a time, but just because you get a new car don’t mean you should sell the old one. You simply put it in the garage for safekeeping. My garage was full, and if a nigga didn’t like it, he knew where the door was—hell, he paid for the door. Those were the days. Every woman I knew my age and younger was a single mother, and struggling. I didn’t have to work, worry, or wonder—I knew someone was going to take care of me. Then I had to go and fuck it all up.
    Tyron was his name, but people called him “Pie”—the girls ’cause he was “fly as pumpkin pie,” and the boys ’cause they said he was sweet. Nigga wasn’t good for nothin’. All he did was smoke and fuck—anything, but I won’t get into that. He just had to have me. I was so used to getting horny over the size of a man’s wallet, I forgot what it was like to be turned on by his face. Pie was the sexiest thing I’d seen in a long time, and it felt good just to let myself go for once. To have sex because I wanted to, not because Dream needed school clothes. The condom broke, and nine months later JD popped up.
    Pie was a deadbeat dad. Probably worse than mine. At least mine stayed out of sight, and out of the way. Pie would come over, and hold JD, talking about how he was going to take him here and take him there; talkin’ about how he was going to teach him basketball, take him to the park, and buy this and that. That was fine, but then he’d disappear for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. He’d pop up again out of nowhere, making the same empty promises for next time. And after JD was born, believe me he really wasn’t doin’ nothin’ but making promises. Much as I tried to give Dream and JD a lil brother or sister, Pie was resisting. He said he ain’t want no more kids. I said I got protection. He still said no. I should have known then. It ain’t too many niggas that can reject this. He said he “just wanted to be a good father.” I told him that if holdin’ a baby is all it takes to be a father, then we don’t need Montel or Maury now, do we? I couldn’t figure out why Pie even bothered to court me in the first place. Then came the day I ran out of Pampers.
    I was still a little big from having JD. Niggas don’t want to flirt with, let alone fuck, no pregnant woman, so I was M.C. Hammer broke. Still, babies need diapers, so I went down to Ralph’s looking for Pie. Ralph’s was a joint that only niggas in his clique could go to, but I didn’t care. He was going to give me