I couldn't believe, as much as I'd degraded my mother for going to a loan shark every year so she could afford Christmas presents, here I was doing the same thing. It was absurd. I kept telling myself it was one time. I would have the money right after Christmas. It wasn't a big deal. But I still felt horrible as I waited in the tiny outer office, two flights above a corner store, to meet with Vince, the local loan shark.
Hi. I'm Georgia. Everyone calls me Gia. I'm 34, I have a 6 year old daughter who just started first grade this year (and she is doing quite well according to her teacher), and I live in a modest one-bedroom in an "okay" part of Queens. My baby girl's daddy? A married man I met at the family-owned grocery store where I'm a cashier. As soon as he heard about the kid, he stopped visiting the store. If I'm honest, it was just a hot and heavy short-term thing. We slept together for a few weeks and I didn't even know his last name. So, I couldn't track him down after she was born. I didn't really mind. Yes, I'm always a little strapped financially considering my job and my education (I'd been expelled from school in the 10
th
grade and hadn't bothered to attend the school for juvenile delinquents they tried to send me to, earning my GED instead), but I was doing okay. My Keni, McKenzie, my baby girl, was healthy, beautiful and smart. She had cinnamon brown skin, thick, long ebony hair that hung past her shoulders (her father's non-Black heritage most likely), big, sweet, brown eyes, two adorable dimples...clothes on her back and enough food to make her just a little chubby, so we were doing okay in my opinion.
I was also a little chubby, or at least it felt that way when I watched television or picked up a magazine. I had the same cinnamon brown skin as my precious girl, my hair was thicker, shorter and curlier, but long enough for me pull into a ponytail (which I did most days). I had the same doe-brown eyes, but only one dimple in my left cheek. I was five-foot four and just a little curvier than most women preferred. Still, I never failed to draw attention...hence my baby's daddy. And no, I hadn't known he was married at first. But I didn't stop sleeping with him once I found out (he was pretty decent in bed), so I blamed myself for my predicament. Not that my baby girl was a predicament...I considered her an unanticipated, yet absolutely wonderful, gift.
Anyway, I was waiting to talk to the local loan shark because my Christmas Club money was "tied up" until after Christmas. If you ask me, that defeats the purpose, but Joey T, the guy running the Christmas Club for the first time this year, said he calculated the dates wrong and the investment was tied up a little longer than he expected. I had been putting away $100 every 2 weeks for more than a year, so my Keni was not only going to have a great Christmas, I was also going to get ahead on some bills. I was very much looking forward to the relief that would bring.
So here I was, borrowing $2,000. That is a little less than what I was expecting from my Christmas Club (I was expecting about $3,000), so I would be able to cover the high interest and pay the loan back immediately. I believe my mother told me if I borrowed $2,000 and paid it back within a month, I would owe something like $2,500. Which meant I should be okay.
I was hoping the interest rates had remained the same. My mother hadn't borrowed money in a while and the old loan sharked she'd used had retired (or died, no one really knew). So this was the loan shark that had inherited the business. And by 'the business,' everyone on my block knew, that meant not only loan sharking, but gambling, a strip club not too far away, a local pizza shop, a dry cleaners, and probably some other 'businesses.' I didn't care about all of that. I just needed to get some Christmas gifts and pay a few bills. That would be the extent of my dealings with this seedier side of life.
I glanced at my cell phone, wondering how long they would keep me waiting, when a door leading to a back room opened and a tall, white (possibly Italian) giant of a man indicated I should enter. I stood, nervously wiping my sweaty hands on my black jeans and tugging at the cream, thick cowl-neck sweater I'd bought for a steal. My low-heeled ankle books clicked noisily as I made my way through the narrow doorway.
I was surprised, to say the least. The room was spacious...and nicely decorated with comfortable looking sofas and chairs. The walls were painted soft cream with a burgundy accent wall. There were nice paintings of landscapes hanging here and there. A popular hip-hop song was being piped, at a decent level, through a speaker system. In front of a wall of windows that looked down onto the very busy street below (we were on the third floor) was a huge wooden desk with a glass top. And I do mean huge. There were papers stacked all over the desk...and to my surprise, a woman was sitting in the massive leather chair behind it.
Even sitting it was clear she was tall. Probably over six feet. And big. Not fat, but...broad? Wide? Thick? I wasn't sure what the proper term would be. Her skin was darker than mine, a rich milk chocolate, her hair dark, silky and cropped close to her head. She had full lips, a large, crooked nose, thick, dark eyebrows and long, thick dark lashes...the combination was not flattering or attractive in any way. She looked...scary. Even dressed in a nicely fitting, charcoal grey suit. Not to mention, I was totally surprised to see a black woman sitting behind that desk. And her name was Vince? I thought I would be dealing with Italians. I stood, waiting for her to acknowledge me, staring at her with a little shock and awe.
"How much?"
Her voice was deep and gravely...she hadn't looked up yet.
"Uh...yes. I have a Christmas Club investβ"
"Don't care. How much and how long?"
I swallowed, "uh, $2,000 and I can p-pay it back right after Christmas."
She stopped doing whatever she was doing on her computer and finally looked up...and my breath caught. Her eyes were blue. A light, beautiful, piercing sky blue. A black woman with blue eyes? Amazing. I watched as she took me in, looking me over for a moment, before she seemed to get back to business.
"25% interest per month. A day late, interest increases to 50%, you get another month. A day late again, it's 75%...we clear?"
I nodded, still a little stunned that I was doing this. I blamed my inability to process what was happening for the next words out of my mouth.
"
You're
Vince?" I asked incredulously. Then I closed my eyes, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
She didn't respond. The guy that had waved me in, who was standing behind me, chuckled. I opened my eyes and she was still watching me, a brow raised.
"I'm sorry. I was expecting a middle-aged, fat white guy. My mother used to borrow money from Vinny all the time. I just assumed you were his son. And I've seen his son...I'm sorry. That was rude."
"Not that it's any of your fucking business," the big guy standing behind me answered, "but Vinny is her uncle. She was named after him."
I saw her look up at him, that brow still raised.
"Your name is Vincenzo?" I asked, continuing with my ridiculous line of questions.
"Vincenza," the man behind me corrected, humor in his voice.
"You here for a fucking interview or a loan?" She finally snapped.
I shook my head, "I'm so sorry. The loan, please. I'll shut up now."
Which I did. She nodded in the direction of the man behind me and he moved over to a safe I hadn't noticed in the corner of the room. Moments later, he was handing me $2,000. I didn't count it. I was already freaking out about my rude behavior, no way I was going to insult them by counting it in their face. Even if it was short, I wouldn't say a damn word.
"January 20
th
," she clipped.
I nodded, stood, and quickly left.
*
Vince met Johnny's eyes after he closed the door.
"What the fuck?" She snapped.
He smiled, "haven't seen you lose it over a chick in a while. Was just having some fun."
Vince raised a brow again...then sighed.
"Get me everything on her."
Johnny smiled, "sure thing boss."
***
"I don't understand what you mean," I repeated to Cheryl, the head cashier. It was three weeks later, I had given Keni about half of the things she'd written on her very long Christmas list (my mother and sister had sent her a few of the remaining items), I'd paid some bills, and now I was anxious about paying back my loan. I wanted to pay it back early so I could relax. Except, Cheryl was trying to explain something to me that just could not be.
"He's gone. He quit. And no one can find him. And he took all of our money with him."