Page 61 of Hellcat Barbies: Imani
“Of course,” she says then hands Imani a black wrist band for DJ and a card. “This gets him a ride on the go-karts and one on the bumper boats and the card has twenty dollars of play. We are meeting back here at one-thirty for pizza, hot dogs, and the cake.”
“And where do you want his gift?” Imani asks her.
“I’ll take it and put it on the table,” she says and DJ hands her the bag. “Thank you.”
“You welcome. Where’s Dontay? He left.”
“Probably back in the boat line.”
“Can we go now?” DJ asks me.
“Yea, let’s go.”
“Where do we get the bands for the outside rides?” Imani asks her before we walk off.
“There’s a cashier booth at the door before you head out back. You can pay separately for the go-karts or boats, twenty each, or a hundred dollars for unlimited rides today.”
“Perfect,” Imani says then we follow the signs to the back.
There’s a small line at the cashier. DJ’s so ready to get out there with his friends; he’s practically bouncing as he stands. “Won’t you get the unlimited bands for us and I’ll take him out there so we can find his friend and get in line,” she says.
“Yeah, daddy,” DJ cosigns and I agree.
They walk out the door and I stand in the line. My cell vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out. It’s a text from my attorney, Victoria Yates. She handles family law and was referred to me by the Powers’ attorney, Miles. We met last week and she agreed that I should file for sole custody of DJ. I was concerned about my past and time inside but she assuredme that current stability is definitely more favorable than his heroine addict mother who abandoned him.
Yates:The petition has been completed and file. To be safe, I filed here, in Texas, and in Pennsylvania to cover all bases. We will attempt the mandatory service required by law but we already discussed that with her current MIA status, this will be the longest process.
Me: Perfect. Did you get her grandmother’s address? I sent it to your assistant.
Yates:Yes. I received it. Thanks, and I’ll keep you posted.
Me: Thanks
As I place my cell back in my pocket, I feel a sense of relief. DJ is exactly where he needs to be, with me. I only want the best for him and that doesn’t include Makenna. She’s still in the streets and her grandma hasn’t heard or seen her since they left here. Her phone is disconnected and she hasn’t made any attempts to even call DJ. I even put fillers out back home in Philly and no one has seen her either.
“Do you mind if I skip?” a soft feminine voice says from behind me so I turn around. “My daughter and husband are next in line for the bumper boats and I haven’t paid yet.”
“Yea, go head,” I tell her then nod for her to walk in front of me. Ther’s only one other person ahead of me.
The lady steps in front of me and is at the window in less than five minutes. I’m right behind her. I buy three green unlimited bands and another arcade play card then find them outside in the bumper boat line. DJ is chopping it up with two other little boys as they wait.
“Three bands?” Imani questions when I hand them to her.
“Yeah. I’m sure he’s going to want to do this and the go-karts more than once.”
“I didn’t think about that. You’re right,” she says. She places a green band on DJ’s wrists then attaches one to me and herself. “We’re next. They let twelve in at a time for five minutes.”
I glance out at the Olympic size pool and see the colored bumper boats. The pool is only three feet deep and there’s a huge round rock structure in the middle of it. Three workers are also in the water for safety issues. The children and the parents bumping around now are having a blast. I can hear their laughter and excitement over the sounds of go-karts on the track behind us.
A few minutes later, the boats are being guided to the docking area by the three workers and one by one, each person exits their boats. We are waved forward next and loaded into our boats. These shits are smaller than they looked from a far. I barely fit and my legs have no room. My knees are damn near touching my chin.
“Daddy, you look funny,” DJ says while laughing his ass off.
“You really do,” Imani adds, smiling too damn hard.
“Sir, are you sure you comfortable?” the young worker by our boats asks me.
“I’m good for five minutes,” I tell him.
