Lil’ Ruby Riding Hood

Written by Danny Robinson

Narrated by Stephanie Jones

 

Of all the 12-year-olds in all the apartments in all of Bed Stuy, not a single one was more special than Ruby Brown.

Maybe it was the way her Lady of Rage afro puffs sat atop her head like balls of raspberry cotton candy. Or how the perfectly placed crimson freckles dotting her face seemed to smile every time she did. And that smile; big, broad and beautiful.

Maybe it was how she took care of her younger brother and mother and friends and anyone she met who seemed to need help.

Maybe it was her beautiful mind and how, at 10-years old, she taught herself to code with a computer she built using money she earned tutoring high school calculus.

Maybe it was all of those things. Maybe it was none of those things. It didn’t much matter to Ruby, because of all the 12-year-olds in all the apartments in all of Bed Stuy, not a single one was more loved than Ruby Brown.

And no one loved Ruby more than her grandmother, Nanda. It was Nanda who gave Ruby the bright red hoodie with the words “Black Girls Rule” written in big, bold letters on the front and “Ruby” written on the back. The bright red hoodie was so perfect that she would never wear anything else; which is why Ruby’s uncle J. J. gave her the name “Lil’ Ruby Riding Hood.” And it stuck. In time, Ruby outgrew the wonderful gift. But every Christmas, Nanda would send her a new, perfectly fitting one she’d buy from a little shop she found on Amazon.

Everyday Ruby and Nanda would FaceTime for a few minutes somewhere between Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune just to catch up. But not today. Today was the day that Ruby would take a subway from “Do Or Die” to Grand Central Station to the Metro North train for a 73-mile ride to her Nanda’s house in West Haven, Connecticut. Today was the start of Ruby and Nanda’s annual girl’s week.

That morning at home Ruby and her mother, Celia, went over the travel rules. “Don’t flash your money. Remember to keep your bags in your lap,” her mom advised. “Make sure you keep your purse on the inside of your body, close to you, so no one can slip into it when you’re not paying attention. And always pay attention!”

“I know, mom,” Ruby responded. “I’m not a little girl.”

“Don’t get it twisted,” her mom laughed, “you’re still my little girl.” Celia smiled and gave Ruby a momma-sized hug, kissed her forehead and sent Ruby and her red hoodie on their way.

Ruby texted her mother all the way from her apartment to the subway to the train and during her Lyft ride though the winding roads of West Haven to her grandma’s house; a lovely two-story Tudor complete with two fireplaces, a library, a cook’s kitchen and a special room just for Ruby. As Ruby’s driver pulled up to the front of the house she spied something she’d never seen before: a very new, very big and very expensive-looking SUV with the name “HOWELL” on the license plate.

Ruby reached the front porch and stretched for the front door bell when, suddenly, the door swung open and there stood Nanda, 5’2", a bit round, and all smiles. “Ruby!” she shouted. Ruby’s eyes grew as big and round as a pair of 12” Sugar Hill singles. She dropped her bags and wrapped herself in her Nanda’s arms to get the grandma-sized hug and kiss on the forehead she’d been waiting for.

Nanda took a step back, “Look at my baby. You’ve sprung up like a weed.” Ruby laughed a laugh that only her Nanda could get out of her.

“Look at you!” Ruby replied. “All dressed up. You goin’ to church?”

“This old thing,” Nanda scoffed as she casually tossed her scarf around her neck. “You know your Nanda has to look good all the time.”

“I know,” Ruby replied. “Like that crazy truck in the driveway. Is that you?”

“Girl, I stopped driving years ago.”

“That belongs to me,” a deep voice echoed from the next room. A young man with a thick beard and mustache, large glasses, wearing a well-tailored suit walked into the light.

“What a big truck you have,” Ruby said.

“All the better to get me through these winding country roads to your grandmother’s house,” he replied.

“Ruby, this is Mr. Howell. He’s a financial advisor from Sure Thing Capital,” Nanda explained.

“Call me Coleman,” said Mr. Howell as he extended his hand.

“What a big ring you have,” Ruby noticed.

“All the better to show how successful I am, little girl. And what a beautiful red hoodie you have there,” Mr. Howell remarked.

“All the better to show how powerful black girls are.”

“Mr. Howell has been working with me,” Nanda said. Ruby looked around the corner into the dining room. In the middle was a table piled high with papers. “He’s showing me how to invest my money.”

“Yesssss,” Mr. Howell smiled revealing two gold canines.

“What shiny teeth you have,” Ruby noticed.

“Ruby!” Nanda scolded.

“It’s okay,“ Mr. Howell replied. He turned to Ruby and said, “I’ve gotten your Nanda into Bitcoin and offshore investments. Sure money-makers. She was just about to sign some papers.”

“May I see?” Ruby didn’t wait for an answer and walked to the table of papers.

“It’s complicated stuff,“ Mr. Howell said.

“Reverse mortgage?” Ruby replied, then pulled out her cell phone, opened up her calculator app, and quickly punched in a few numbers. She paused then said, “What a big interest rate you have.”

Mr. Howell cleared his throat, “Surely these are boring matters to a 12-year-old girl”

“You’re right. This is like suuuper boring,” Ruby said, pretending not to care. “I’d rather do something fun. Let’s record a video for my ‘gram with my Gram.”

Ruby stretched out her arm and pressed record, “What up people, it’s Ruby Red coming to you live from my Nanda’s country house. Say ‘hey,’ Nanda.”

“Haaaaay!” Nanda shouted. Ruby continued, “We’re also here with Mr. Howell. He’s helping my Nanda with her finances. Say ‘hi’ to all my followers. Show them you shiny teeth. ” Mr. Howell gave the camera a half-smile then quickly turned away. Ruby turned the phone back around, “I think Mr. Howell is shy.”

“Are we through with your little video?” Mr. Howell grumbled.

“I guess Mr. Howell doesn’t want to be famous. So I guess we’re out. ‘Til next time. Peace!”

“Now, if we can get back to business and sign these papers, I can get out of your way.”

Nanda scowled, putting her hands on her hips. “But Mr. Howell, you can’t leave ‘til you’ve had some of my famous peach cobbler.”

He eyed the door, eager to leave. But then again, he hadn’t eaten in quite some time. “Very well, I’ll have a quick bite.”

Meanwhile, Ruby’s phone began to vibrate. Again. And Again.

“Pardon me, I need to text with some of my silly friends about silly kids’ stuff. You enjoy that cobbler.”

Thirty minutes later, Mr. Howell had wolfed down the entire tray of cobbler. His belly hung out over his snakeskin belt.

“My compliments to the chef, Nanda, that really was an exceptional dish. But I must be on my way. Let’s sign these papers, shall we?”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Who could that be?” Nanda wondered. She opened the door and there stood…

“Trevon!” Nanda said joyfully. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Nanda. I was about to get back to the office when…”

“Give me a hug and get on in here,” Nanda said. “Ruby, Trevon is here!”

Ruby ran out of the kitchen straight into Trevon’s arms. “What a total surprise, cuz!” Ruby said with a sly wink.

“Trevon, meet Mr. Howell,” Ruby said waving him over. “Mr. Howell, this is my cousin… Special Agent Trevon Hunter.”

Ruby moved aside to reveal Trevon’s jacket and the letters “FBI” stenciled on the front. “Mr. Howell has been ‘helping’ Nanda with her finances.”

“Hello, Mr. Howell. Or should I say Big Bad Howell, aka, The Wolf Of West Haven?”

Mr. Howell froze.

“Do you know each other?” Nanda asked.

“The fake beard and hair almost fooled me,” Trevon quipped, “but those gold teeth? Dead giveaway. We’ve been tracking you for months, figured you skipped town, but then I saw you in the video Ruby sent me.”

Mr. Howell snarled, “I’ve been hoodwinked, you little…”

“Genius?” Trevon interrupted. “Nanda, this guy has been taking money from seniors all over town.”

“Mr. Howell!” Nanda shouted. “You said you were a church-going man. And you devoured all my cobbler? Shame on you!”

“Why don’t you and I take a little ride?” Trevon said to Mr. Howell. “I’ve got a nice vehicle waiting outside. Not as nice as yours, but it’s roomy.”

“You haven’t seen the last of me, little girl,” Mr. Howell growled.

“You’re right,” Ruby replied. She grabbed her phone and took one last picture to post. “What a big prison sentence you’re going to have, Mr. Howell."

With Mr. Howell out of the way, Ruby and Nanda spent the rest of the week enjoying each other’s company, clothes shopping in town, binge-watching Golden Girls on Hulu, playing the home version of Jeopardy. Ruby spent her last day creating an online financial program designed just for Nanda. And in time, her bank account grew bigger than anyone could count, with more than enough to buy Ruby all the red hoodies she’d need for the rest of her life.