Kijo A Way Out

By Keondra Wheeler

Kijo wants nothing more in the world than to have an established family foundation for his daughter, Miracle. Yet he faces so many trials that keep him from reaching his dream. Daria, Miracle’s mother, is a constant thorn in his side. Kole, his drug addict brother, is a barrier in himself. But he has his best friend, Slim, to keep his ambition high. Kijo also comes across Evina, a stripper that he can’t keep his mind off. Will Kijo be able to stay true to his dreams of providing a better life for his daughter? Or will he lose sight when his life begins to spiral out of control in front of his eyes?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662430756

Book preview

Chapter 1

Kijo sat in the school drop-off line with Miracle. She had plaits in her hair that had pink ribbons at the bases. That was one thing Daria was good at doing; anything else, not so much. Dad, what’s two plus five? Miracle asked, finishing her homework that she didn’t do last night.

Count on your fingers like I showed you last week, he instructed.

Miracle finished the last of the assignment then neatly put her books in her backpack. Are you picking me up today? she asked with excitement. Kijo looked at all the missed calls on his phone from his customers.

I’m going to really try, but if you don’t see my car, make sure you get on that bus, okay? And if you miss it, call me like always, and I promise I’ll be here, Kijo assured her. He felt bad that he only saw her on occasion, but he tried to make her understand that it was just the way it was. They got closer to the front of the line. Do you know who Blow is? Miracle asked innocently.

Kijo almost broke his neck to look at his daughter. Who is that?

That’s who my mama said is gonna be my new dad, but I like you as my dad, she said, innocently looking at him with big brown eyes.

That’s not true. I’ll be parked right here when you get out today. And don’t come out here with dirt all over your pants again. Love you, and be good. He kissed her on the forehead like he did every morning when he dropped her off.

Kijo tried to never break promises to Miracle, so that meant he had to race to the other side of town to make a few drop-offs in time to be back here when school let out.

He drove his ’69 Camaro back to his mother’s house. He was glad he had found a new apartment that would be ready next week. Jo, baby, is that you? his mother called out as soon as he opened the door.

Yeah, Ma, as if a robber or somebody would answer her. He tried to get her to get a gun, but she didn’t believe in them. She even turned down the one he had legally brought for her.

She cut the corner to get a look at her son. They had the same green hazel eyes and curly brown hair even though he kept his cut low and styled into waves. She smiled, showing the dimples they shared too. I went down to the grocery store this morning to get some coffee, and I didn’t see you there, his mother stated, giving him a curious look.

I was off today, he answered, trying to leave the discussion.

That’s not what the calendar in your room says, she probed.

He went up the stairs to his room full of boxes; she followed on his heels.

She spoke again, How can you afford a new car, new apartment, and all this and you haven’t been to work in weeks? Right away Kijo knew that his mother had spoken to his old manager about his whereabouts, but he still tried to evade the truth.

He transferred me to the other location by request, so I can work nights, he simply said. He rubbed his hair like he always did when he was telling a lie.

His mother shifted her weight. Well, that’s not what he said.

Kijo’s mom hated to keep questioning him, because he was the son that gave her no issues, aside from the fact that she suspected he was selling drugs. She just wanted him to tell her the truth about what was going on, but he knew she would flip. She watched as he shuffled through the castle of boxes, looking for something.

Kijo didn’t have an answer. What did she want him to say, that he was moving so much weight it was messing up the suspension in his car? Speaking of, he couldn’t find the box he labeled shoes that contained boxes full of weed and pills and the occasional pair of Jordans for looks.

And that’s not a new car, Ma. It’s a used car that I suped up, he tried to win a losing argument. Finally, he found the box and lifted it to carry it out of the house. His mother still followed him around. He wished that she followed his brother around as much as she followed him. At least his money supported them; Kole only gave a shit about himself.

Kijo loved his mom to death, so he bit his tongue when it came to how lenient she was with his brother. As he neared the door, he turned to give his mother a kiss on her cheek. I love you. I’m gonna be at the apartment, got a lot of errands to run with paperwork and all.

As Kijo carried the box to his trunk, he realized it felt a bit light. When he checked to lower it into the trunk, everything was all good; it must have just been his mind playing tricks on him. He waved to his mother then watched her lock the door before he drove off.

Kijo got on the phone to make his first delivery, and then what he couldn’t sell he would always bring to his bestfriend, Slim, to see if he could flip it. This always worked, and at the end of the week, they would be counting up thousands. Shit was getting old, though he hated the risk of getting arrested and then having a record, which would look bad when he fought for custody of Miracle.

Finally, Kijo pulled up to his first stop, which was to deliver one of the shoeboxes; he felt like he had a good guise by loading the drugs into Waitr deliver bags that he got from a friend that had quit the job. The Waitr sticker on the back of his car wasn’t a bad idea either. He only had to do that in good neighborhoods though; anywhere else, he could basically walk around with that it in his pocket if the block wasn’t hot.

He looked at the clock: 12:23 p.m. Soon he would have to make his way back across town to get Miracle and bring her home. He had four more boxes in his trunk that he wanted to see if Slim could move for him. He never brought drugs to his daughter’s school and always made sure his car didn’t smell like weed.

He was relieved to see Slim’s Impala parked outside his house.

Yo! he yelled from the porch, knowing that would wake Slim up because this dude always slept late. After a while of knocking, he heard feet shuffle to the door.

What up? Slim asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes. The smell of stale weed smacked Kijo in his face. Kijo dapped Slim off and took a seat at the kitchen table.

Kijo sat by the box on the table that was covered in empty bottles and rolling papers with buds of weed scattered around. Got some shit for you to move for me. Slim nodded then began rubbing his hands together like he was thinking off a master plan. Kijo always found this dude funny, because he knew he was about to simply walk around Grover University handing the pills out like candy until some rich boy would buy the whole load for a frat party. Slim was wild.

You want something to knock the sleep outcha system? Slim asked, beginning to roll a blunt. Kijo shook his head, knowing that Slim always had loud that stayed in your clothes no matter how much cologne you used.

Slim looked at the clock. He knew his friend would sometimes pick up his daughter from school. Well, let me call this man real quick. He probaby gonna want most of that weed, and I’ll unload them pills this weekend at this kickback I’m going to. Slim made a call.

Before long, Slim let in an older Mexican man that was wearing an oily mechanic uniform. What’s good, amigo? Got some shit for you, Slim jokingly greeted the man, who simply laughed. Kijo simply nodded at him, guessing he didn’t speak much English.

Slim went to the shoeboxes that Kijo had brought over. He opened them and began to sort through the products. Kijo could see a confused look on his face. Then he nearly broke out into a cold sweat when he saw the boxes were full of rolled-up tube socks instead of pounds of weed.

Slim looked at him like, What the fuck. Kijo didn’t know what to do next. He didn’t want this man to think he was playing; after all, he didn’t know him.

Give me a second. Wrong box. Let me go to the car. He left his cell on the table to show he was coming back.

Shit, shit, shit, he cussed as he calmly walked to his trunk. Maybe he made a mistake and put one of the shoeboxes of weed to the side. He wasn’t tripping; some of that product was missing, because he only found two pairs of Jordans.

He walked back in the house, not knowing what to say. Slim could sense something was wrong, so he tried to fix the situation. No problemo, amigo. Slim smiled as he went into his bedroom. He came back with a snack-size Ziploc bag of weed. The man’s eyes lit up as he and Slim exchanged goods.

As soon as Slim closed the door, he went completely off, What the fuck was that! You standing there with your fucking mouth open! Did you sleep smoke the shit! If that was a joke, next time tell me, bruh! Where’s the weed you got me, giving him my good shit?

Kijo had his face in his hands at the table. Too much was happening too fast. If his mom had moved his stuff, she would have given him a lecture so long, but this was different. Kole had to have been at the house and stole his shit.

I’m sorry… I’mma get you some more. Kijo punched the table in frustration. Slim shook his head. You need to beat the hell out that dude. He got you looking crazy. Playing with people like that could get you fucking killed, man. You lucky that was only Hector ass.

Kole was always stealing from Kijo, and he usually just let the shit slide, because if he did beat him up again, his mother would have a fit. At least he was getting his own place. He sat with Slim for a bit longer as they went over the plans for next week while playing the game.

He saw the clock again: 2:00 p.m.

I gotta roll, man, Kijo said, remembering he had to go get Miracle.

Cool. If you see Mrs. Williams, tell her I said what’s up. Slim laughed.

Mrs. Williams was their teacher from back in the day that used to have a stripper body.

Nigga, do you know how old she is now? Kijo laughed, heading to his car.

Slim nodded. Yup, and she can still get it. They both broke out laughing.

Chapter 2

Evina Vina Booker

The strip club was bumping, as Bands Make Her Dance played loud in the speakers. Evina could barely hear herself think. What if she fell off the pole or someone tried to grab her? This was her second month of dancing, but you would think it was still her first night. She wondered when this would become normal to her.

Evina had on a long wavy wig tonight that she had made sure was secured. She looked in the broken mirror in the locker room to begin to do her makeup. Her eyes were like almonds, and she had the most full lips, but she suffered from a resting-bitch face that always made it look like she smelled something disgusting nearby. She practiced a fake smile as she put on her lip gloss.

You think that’s going to get you a good tip? she heard someone say behind her. She turned to see Madam Persian, the den mother, standing there.

Evina began to feel a bit of ease when the older lady was around. I gotta do something. I’m tired of hearing ‘You too pretty to not be smiling.’ The older lady began to brush Evina’s hair where it had come out of place. She then sprayed a fine glitter mist over Evina’s body.

You’ll be straight. You could have no damn face at all or shark teeth, and they would never notice with the body you have, MP assured her. The lady wasn’t lying; Evina had nice breasts and wide hips, but she felt skinnier than the other girls, which made her feel like she had to work harder.

MP handed her two small white pills. This will take the edge off for you.

Evina popped the two pills gratefully, hoping they would get her through the sticky finger groping, stank breath, and lame flirts that filled the club. Soon her four-inch heels felt like they were miles in the sky. She strutted out of the locker room onto the floor to find some scrubs who wanted a lap dance.

Ay yo, bitch, bring that ass here.

That hoe think she all that, fuck her.

Let me buy you a drink.

You ain’t gotta be here if you don’t want. I got a big-ass house.

Evina could hear everything, but it was all a blur. She flirted with guests at the bar, did a few lap dances, with one ending with her getting caressed on her panty line. She pushed his hand away. I doubt you can afford. As she manipulated the floor, her bra and thong got filled with bills.

The pills started taking over, and soon she sat at a table like she was one of the damn guests. Her feet hurt, and she felt so sticky and gross. She tried to focus her eyes on Rudy, who was dominating the main stage. Rudy was hard on the eyes, but she had a banging body. She was muscular and a pole killer when it came to tricks. Granted, she was all about her cash and frequented the private dance rooms with ease.

I’m only letting the fine ones hit. After all, I was gonna let them hit anyway. So I shouldn’t have to fuck for free, she once heard Ruby say so freely in the locker room. Evina laughed to herself at how this bitch was using Drake lines to get through life.

She caught herself too in the moment and forgetting she was at work. As she went to stand, her legs got wobbly, and she felt herself falling to the side. She landed right in a dude’s lap.

He hungrily grabbed her waist, pushing her onto his hard crotch. You good, love. His boys at the table laughed and egged him on to hold her down. She could smell the liquor on his breath and thought she caught a glimpse of a few gold teeth.

Get the fuck off me. She pushed herself off him to stand again. She must have pushed him too hard, because he braced up to her like he was about to slide her across the club.

He pushed her. Don’t you ever disrespect me like that, bitch.

Luckily, his boys stood in between them, because she guessed they knew that he was ’bout that action. She stumbled off to the locker room, hoping that no one had seen the nasty altercation. The locker room was spinning. She felt like she had to throw up, but she chugged the water she kept in her locker and went back out.

The pills still had her rolling, but this time, she could at least focus across the room with a little effort. She saw her regular, Mr. Davis, sitting at his usual table. Mr. Davis was a white man that swore up and down; he was Black, he was old as fuck in her eyes, he had blue eyes, and he always dressed like a retired pimp, but he tipped well just from her talking to him.

Hey, my baby, how are you doing today? Davis looked at Evina through his yellow-tinted glasses.

I’m doing good, boo. How you been? she purred as she sat herself down at his table. As Davis took a sip from his liquor, the gold rings on each finger glinted under the lights in the club.

I’m not liking you using that dope, Davis dryly said. He could tell Evina was high by the way her eyes were barely open, and she moved like she was unsure of her next step.

Evina laughed. Never that. She remembered Davis was old and probably called all drugs dope. Besides, he didn’t understand how hard it was to come here and be treated like an object; well, he was kinda different.

He placed his hand on top of hers. You’re too beautiful. I just don’t want to see you start looking raggedy. When you finally agree to marry me, I want you to look beautiful on our wedding day. They both laughed.

I wouldn’t have it any other way, Evina teased back.

Chapter 3

Kijo

Kijo rode home in silence. He was just glad he had the time to take Miracle to his new apartment and help her actually do her homework. She was so excited about the new place and talking about how the second bedroom he had would become her new pink room.

I’m going to put my teddy bears everywhere, she kept saying, looking at the room space.

The whole time, Daria was blowing up both of his cell phones with calls and text messages. He only answered trying to figure out what she wanted to waste his time with today.

On the phone, Daria yelled, You need to bring her home now! You don’t just pick her up! I’m serious, or I’m calling the fucking cops!

He spoke calmly, I texted you earlier and told you I was going to bring her home today, and you said, ‘Cool.’

Well, I change my fucking mind. What time are you bringing her?

He could hear her mother in the background telling her to stop all the commotion and that Miracle would be fine.

She continued yelling, You better bring my fucking child, Jo! She don’t need to be around none of them drugs you call yourself selling. Sell enough to pay child support on some shit.

Kijo really hated Daria when she said shit like that. He insisted on paying school fees directly to the school, buying her clothes, toys, and anything she needed directly from the source instead of giving the money to Daria. That’s what really pissed her off.

Yeah, whatever, I don’t have no drugs here. Can you say the same? Do the niggas you have around her leave they shit elsewhere? he retorted.

Fuck you. If y’all not here in a minute, I’m calling the cops. Daria hung up the phone.

He knew she was bluffing. She only wanted to know what time he was bringing her so she could have time to do her makeup and her hair. She really wanted to win him back now that he was making more money; she still sent him naked pictures or tagged him on social media in good-dad posts. Then behind closed doors, he would have to deal with her alter ego that wasn’t trying to please the public or let other women know that he was hers.

When Kijo dropped off Miracle, he got out and opened her door and gave her a hug before she ran into the house.

As he was about to pull off, Daria ran out in front his car. He sighed heavily as she went to the driver’s side window to knock like a crazy person.

He rolled the window down just a bit. What.

See, that’s what I don’t like. How you gonna come over here and not speak? My mama wanted to talk to you, Daria said, playing in her hair that smelled like burned flat iron.

About? Kijo asked dryly. He already knew that her mama wanted to keep trying to make them an item. Honestly, though, he didn’t hate Ms. Joanne; he trusted her with Miracle when Daria would be gone all night or a day or two.

Daria leaned into his car, trying to press her breasts on the window; that was when he noticed she was wearing a lace nightie under a silk robe. She don’t wanna tell me, ‘Come in and see,’ Daria said, innocently twirling her hair between her fingers.

He really didn’t want to damage any ties with Ms. Joanne, because she was the reason that he saw Miracle 90 percent of the time. He grudgingly put his car in park and got out.

Ms. Joanne’s house was the same as he remembered. Daria’s messy room was by the door; he could see the window that he used to sneak through to visit her when they were younger.

Come on, she in the kitchen, Daria said, switching in front of him to lead him to the kitchen. He could smell that her mother was cooking something. The house was dimly lit, but he could see all her fine china cabinets and old-school decor.

Hey, Ms. Joanne, how you been? Kijo spoke to her from the doorway.

Ms. Joanne turned around from the sink immediately. Oh, hey, baby, how have you been? She crossed the kitchen to give him a good, strong hug.

He rolled his eyes at Daria as she stood behind her mother, smiling like this was some type of happy, jolly family reunion. Kijo just wanted to hear what she had to say this time and go about his business.

Here, have a seat. Joanne happily pulled out a chair at the family table.

Miracle had come back into the kitchen after changing out of her school clothes and gave her grandmother a hug. Then she noticed Kijo.

Dad, you staying for dinner? Miracle asked with a happy sparkle in her eye.

He simply smiled at her. I don’t think so, baby girl.

Nonsense, stay, Joanne insisted. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He cursed again and again and again in his head at how left shit was going. In no time, Daria began setting the table; when she tried to place a plate in front of him, he gestured that he wasn’t hungry.

The whole time Kijo played to his phone awkwardly; he didn’t want to eat any of this food with them. He was starting to get aggravated with how long Ms. Joanne was taking to speak her peace so he could go.

It’s nice of you to join us for dinner tonight. How is your mama doing? Ms. Joanne asked, taking a bite of her food. That was when it dawned on him that Daria had fucking lied to him to get him inside. His green eyes cut so hard with a glare to Daria that, if looks could kill, she would be dead where she stood.

He sent a message to Slim: Call me in, like, five minutes.

She good. Kijo wiped his hand across his face. He even let out a fake yawn. The whole time he could feel Daria looking at him with those fake gray contacts she insisted on wearing.

The next few minutes felt like years; finally, his phone rang. Slim was wildly laughing on the other line, then he got serious and began to project his voice so that any listening ears could hear him clear, Yeah, bruh, my car won’t start, and I’m about to be late to work. Can you come scoop me up, please. I owe you big-time.

Yeah, bruh, calm down. I got you. I’m close in the area. Kijo began to stand.

Kijo ended the call. I’m gonna have to cut this short. I gotta go help a friend out.

They all suddenly heard the front door open and slam. It grabbed Kijo’s attention, because he didn’t know of anyone else living there. As he turned around to look, he saw a man’s silhouette walk past the kitchen and into the living room. The energy from this character made his blood boil; he wondered if this was Blow that Miracle was talking about.

Matter of fact, this had to be the dude, because when he turned to look at them, they were pretending that everything was normal. Daria had a smile pasted on her face. Ms. Joanne played with the food on her plate, and Miracle looked from face to face as if she wanted to see if he had caught on.

He kissed Miracle on her forehead, thanked Ms. Joanne, then he headed for the door. As he left the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of the back of the dude’s head as he sat on the sofa: long matted dreads.

As he stepped out into the evening air, he immediately felt the tension leave his body. He spoke too soon as he heard the door open behind him and Daria stepped out. I’m sorry I was acting like that. I just missed you. When you want to come get her, just call me. If you need to talk or anything. And tell your mama I said hey.

Whatever, li’l girl. Kijo brushed her off as he hopped in his car and sped off. He didn’t feel like going home. Maybe he could pass by Slim’s house for a bit to blow off this steam. Or better yet.

Chapter 4

Kijo

Kijo parked his car in the alley about two blocks from his mother’s house. It was around ten o’clock, so she would be in bed. He used his key to let himself in; he quietly locked the door behind him and went upstairs to his room. Kole wasn’t home yet. Perfect, now he had the upper hand to confront his thieving ass. He went into his old room where the boxes were still waiting for him to transport them.

He manuevered around the boxes and went straight for the closet. He still had boxes in there that he could hide among, which was where he sat. He played on his phone for about thirty minutes before he heard a car pull up outside. The house was completely dark, so he closed his phone and muted it.

His heart raced;