Anybody who was somebody on the streets, hundreds of people, junkies, hustlers, friends and females packed March’s Funeral Parlor to pay their last respects to Tim Tim. He was heavily respected and known throughout B-More for playing fair. If he did something to anybody, more than likely, they had it coming to them. All the hustlers in the hood got together and did something unprecedented. Everybody closed up shop. Simultaneously, shit shut down during the hours of his wake and funeral. Not a nickel, vial of coke or a dime bag of dope was sold. It was like the whole city stopped to say goodbye. Months after the funeral, T-shirts bearing his likeness were being worn by everyone in the city. The inscription on the shirts read “Super Tim, we miss you.”
After burying one son, Tina faced an inevitable dilemma: the murder trial of her other son. Armed with her newfound faith in God, and Mimi dragging behind on her arm, she made her way to the courthouse to support her son. Unfortunately, a mother’s love and good intentions can only go so far in the legal system. Testifying as a character witness for her son, Tina talked about his nice childhood and good upbringing, but Mother Teresa and Perry Mason couldn’t beat this case for Tommy. It was high profile and well-publicized, which wasn’t in Tommy’s favor at all. Not to mention, Tommy had his black ass before an all-white jury in, unfortunately, the County. Even if he was innocent, with the media and jury in front of him, the brother would still be in jail. Tommy never had a chance. The deck was stacked, and the cards were marked from the gate. The prosecutor painted a perfect picture of the influx of drugs, guns and murder.
Subsequently, Tommy was tried and convicted, then sentenced to life in prison. The prosecutor went straight for premeditated murder, convincing the jury that Tommy had every opportunity to alert the authorities. The prosecutor called it “revenge,” and referred to Tommy’s actions as “street justice.”
Thanks to his girl Gina, he didn’t get charged with double murder. Gina called his father and Willie got rid of the other body. Tina ultimately lost two sons. One to prison and the other to an early grave. In her everyday life, she only had one remaining child, Mimi, and she vowed to protect her from harm.
For Tina, it was interesting when reflecting on her past and her life. All those years with Willie—the lifestyle and the drugs—never had affected her directly. She was only indirectly impacted, and that was via the cash Willie provided her with. All that shopping, all that spending, flying to Vegas just to cop a shirt, all the years that had gone by. What a price to pay for every dollar: her own children.
Tina hurt for her dead son, and she prayed for her son that was left. After all, a life in prison is better than no life at all. Her children’s lives were all that mattered since the day she had given them life. It was all she could do to maintain. It was so bad for Tina trying to cope that Willie had to be on stand-by and was over her house checking on her every day.
In light of the recent drama involving the twins and considering all the adversity they faced together, Tina tried desperately to re-establish a strong, mother-daughter relationship. But, Mimi wasn’t having it. She didn’t want to be smothered with love from her mother. She wanted time alone to mourn and remember her brother. There was no timetable for grieving. Mimi was especially close to Tim Tim, so it was hard for her to accept that he was gone. Tommy’s life sentence was even harder for her to accept. Judging by appearance, she took it all well on the outside, but on the inside, it was another matter. She was confused and naïve to the harshness of the game. Facing life without her brothers—her protectors and her bridge for the troubled waters—the future looked bleak in her eyes.
Mimi became withdrawn; her room became her cocoon. She never left it. She felt abandoned by all the men who were ever in her life, first her father, now her brothers. Doors once closed to Mimi were now literally flung wide open for her to walk through. She started hanging with some fast girls she met in school. She partied heavily, making her way through the club circuit. From Hammer Jacks to the Underground to the Paradox, Miss Mimi was in the house. She was like a shaken can of carbonated soda, and Tina was the one who popped the lid, realizing her daughter soon would be out of control. There was nothing Tina could say or do to make Mimi mind her.
Concerned for her daughter, she had her pastor come over and talk to her. When that didn’t work, in a last-ditch effort, she solicited help from Mimi’s father.
“Talk to her. Please, talk some sense into your daughter,” Tina said, repeating a desperate request she kept asking him to do.
Willie tried to be the dad he had always wanted to be. He tried lecturing his daughter on the evils of the streets. But, it was too little, too late. He couldn’t get through to her. She wasn’t feeling anything he was trying to say.
Where were you when I really needed you? She sat there asking him that question in her mind, as his speeches continued. That shit was going in one ear and out the other. He wasn’t at all concerned any other time. Truthfully, he didn’t think it was that bad. He knew Tina and how she reacted to everything. Besides, Mimi wasn’t pregnant or doing badly in school.
So, what’s your problem? This was just a phase she was going through. Or at least that’s what Willie thought. A female problem best left between two females, Mimi and her mother. He did what he could, then washed his hands of the situation.
Disobedience filled Mimi’s days. Her release, a temporary escape from reality, started the first time she smoked weed. She was hooked, loving the euphoric sensation. It made her feel happy and carefree. Getting blunted and partying became Mimi’s favorite two past times. Mimi and her girls from school lived for the weekends. The clubs were the place to be for them to see and be seen. It was only a matter of time before Mimi’s beauty caught some hustler’s eye.
Volcano’s was the city’s hottest nightclub where everybody who was about something met and mingled. Hustlers, hoes and anybody who was anybody came to socialize. On any given weekend, this was the place to be. Located in the heart of East Baltimore, Volcano’s stayed packed. It was only natural for Mimi and her crew to be up in there getting their groove on. The club’s sound system was banging. The DJ was on the turntables, spinning the one and two’s. A local celebrity, Miss Toney, was in the house and the DJ began playing her song.
“Yo, this is my cut,” Mimi screamed in her friend’s ear. The music almost drowned out her voice as she began dancing by herself and singing along with the music.
“What’s up, what’s up? Miss Toney, say how you gonna carry it?” she chanted over and over again.
Clowning around with her girlfriends Mimi busted out laughing. They all were high, so it didn’t take much for them to catch a case of the giggles.
“Yo, I’m ready to get my drink on,” Petey said.
“I’m wit’ it too,” Mimi said, seconding the motion.
As they walked toward the bar, Mimi could feel all eyes on her. Heads turned, and the stares were long. While waiting on their drinks, the girls chatted with one another, as a hustler quicker and slicker than the rest stepped up to holler at Mimi.
His name was Twan. A handsome, cornrow-wearing, dark-skinned brother hailing from East Baltimore’s Greenmount Avenue. He was a young gun on the rise. He was seeing major paper. With his good looks and his hustling skills, he was that nigga.
The gift of gab came naturally to Twan; it stemmed from his time spent on the block trying to convince picky fiends to buy his product. He had no problem running game on the ladies, either.
“Yo, Shorty, put that money away. I got y’all,” Twan said, flashing a large knot of cash with a friendly smile that revealed two front gold teeth.
Playing hard to get and doing her best to look evil, Mimi said, “We alright, yo.”
Pretending not to have seen his pockets, she rolled her eyes and turned her head away.
“What I say, Shorty?” he replied, as if she was going to do as he said.
“My name ain’t Shorty, it’s Mimi,” she snapped, this time getting a better look at him.
“Shorty, what’s up with you, yo? What, you on some antisocial shit or something?” he asked, real cool. Twan took Mimi’s response as a challenge and paid for their drinks anyway. He sensed there was something special about this girl. She wasn’t your average chicken head, ‘cause if she was, he would have slapped the taste out her mouth. Instead, he cocked his head back and laughed, letting the insult slide.
“Dig Mimi, I don’t mean you no harm. My name is Twan,” he said, flashing his gold teeth again. But, before he could follow that up with some super slick shit, the club suddenly exploded with gunfire.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The gun shots echoed through the club walls, bringing an abrupt halt to the party atmosphere. As usual, two rival drug cliques brought a territorial dispute to the club. Thinking fast, Twan grabbed Mimi and her girlfriend, pulling them both to the floor. With his body, he shielded Mimi from danger. Just as quickly as the shooting started, it stopped. Regaining his composure, he gathered up Mimi and her girlfriends. He then escorted them out of the club and to his Land Rover.
“Yo, y’all all right?” he asked, speeding away from the club and checking his rear-view mirror for a response.
“Yeah, we cool. Stupid ass niggas always gotta fuck up a party,” Petey said, from the back seat.
Mimi sat in the front, a little dazed and a little shook. That was the first shoot out she had ever been in. It was hectic. The gun shots and screams had left echoes in her head.
“Can you take us home?” a voice in the back asked.
Suddenly, Twan realized he was driving aimlessly. He had a hard time concentrating on the road. He constantly looked over at Mimi, who was quiet. He turned on North Ave. and started taking direction to their individual homes. In different parts of West Baltimore, Edmondson Village and Park Heights, Twan dropped them off one by one, saving Mimi’s house for last. When he got to her block, instead of pulling up in front of her door and dropping her off as he had her friends, he parked.
Instantly, they clicked. All the sarcasm that Mimi had earlier was gone. She appreciated the fact that he had shielded her, and for hours, she sat in the car talking to him. The conversation varied from music to clothes. Then, things turned personal.
“You got a girl?” she asked.
“Naw, me and my girl broke up a couple of months ago,” Twan replied, lying.
“Why?” a curious Mimi couldn’t help but ask.
“A lot of reasons. To make a long story short, she didn’t understand what I had to do. She said she did, but when it came time for her to demonstrate her understanding, she couldn’t. She was real insecure. We used to argue every day, all day. Sometimes, for no reason at all,” he said, running his game.
“Things got so bad,” he continued. “She used to try to swing on me. It’s like she wanted me to hit her and I don’t get down like that. If I gotta hit a female, then I don’t need her.”
His sincere facial expressions and the tone of his voice were endearing to her, even though he knew damn right well he’d knock a broad out if he needed to. There was something about Twan that made Mimi wanna open up to him. He wasn’t like other guys. Effortlessly, their conversation flowed. He was so easy to talk to; Mimi definitely wanted to get to know him better. Before they both knew it, the sun was rising and the birds were chirping. They exchanged numbers and a brief kiss. Parting, Twan promised to call her soon. Mimi got out of his car and walked to her front door like she was floating on air. She wanted to get with him.
Keeping his promise, he called a day later. Twan was ready to put his full-court press on her.
“Hello, can I speak to Mimi?” he asked, politely.
“Speaking,” she replied.
“What’s up, Shorty. Know who this is?” Twan playfully asked, trying to test her to see how many dudes she may have been messing with.
“What I tell you about calling me Shorty, nigga?” she jokingly asked back, reminding him of when she snapped on him at the club.
“My bad,” he said apologetically.
“Ah, I’m only playing, Twan,” she said, as if he could call her Shorty or anything else he wanted to.
“Oh, what you ’bout to do?” he asked.
“Nuttin’,” she quickly said.
“Well, get ready ‘cause I’m coming by to take you out,” he said.
Just like that, the date was made. She was ecstatic that he was coming to get her. That evening, Twan took her to the movies, to dinner and to Rusty Scupper’s in the Inner Harbor. Over the following weeks, their dates turned into a whirlwind romance. Twan and Mimi went to comedy clubs and plays. They even drove to D.C. to shop in Georgetown and do lunch at Union Station.
Having never experienced a man giving her this type of attention, Mimi was eating it up. She loved every minute spent with him; he was such a gentlemen. He was spending his money and time with her, and he never pressed her about sex.
Twan was playing the role of a good guy. His other side, the dog, hadn’t emerged yet. She wouldn’t see the real Twan until his mission was accomplished. By playing possum, he was setting her up for the kill. He could afford to be patient; he was getting hit off on a regular basis by a different chick every day, all day. So, he could concentrate on putting in quality time and building up Mimi’s trust. It was like an investment to him, and nothing more.
After picking Mimi up for a dinner date one day, Twan made an unexpected pit stop back to his apartment. He claimed to have forgotten something but once he lured Mimi into his bedroom, one thing led to another. Before Mimi knew it, they were kissing. Twan’s lips caressed against her as his tongue stroked the inside of Mimi’s mouth. From the floor to the bed, Twan pulled her shirt up and unbuttoned Mimi’s pants, still French-kissing her. His slim-but-muscular body grinded against her, as they both lay naked sprawled on the bed, lips locked and bodies pressed tight.
Twan’s eyes roamed over every inch of Mimi’s body as he kissed her from head to toe. Dan, she looks even better naked. That couldn’t be said for most women. They always had something, some type of body defect that turned his picky ass off. A little cellulite here, a couple of stretch marks there and forget it. Twan was judgmental like that.
Nibbling and licking on the inside of her thighs, he fingered her clit. Moaning and groaning, Mimi was climbing the walls. It was the right time to enter her. Gently, Twan penetrated her raw and the realization hit him that Mimi was a virgin. The excruciating pain shot straight to her stomach. In a missionary position, she was unable to bear the pain any longer, as tears welled up in her eyes. She pleaded with him to take it out, but her cries only excited him as he drove his manhood deeper inside her. It was tight as hell and he was loving every minute of it.
Slowly, he established rhythm and her pain turned into pleasure. Slowly thrusting in and out, going around and around, he felt her walls as he kept his movements in perfect motion. Twan was putting his thing down. He was riding her gentle, but rough. He wanted this moment to be memorable. If he did it right, he knew he could always have her anytime, regardless of what he did.
So, this is sex, Mimi thought. This is what I been missing’.
She was definitely open. From that day on, they were officially lovers on a regular basis. Twan had Mimi wet with the slightest touch and cumming on a regular basis. However, the wining and dining quickly began to fade. Having gotten his way with Mimi, Twan tried to lock her down. She was just a notch on his belt. He bragged to his people how he was hitting Tim Tim and Tommy’s little sister. To him, it was something to be proud of, and he was, but for Mimi, it was so much more. He was her first and she loved him with all her heart. Her entire world revolved around him.
Whatever Twan said, Mimi listened. Whatever Twan wanted, Mimi gave him and whatever Twan told her to do, she did. She thought his controlling ways were cute.
This only proves he loves me, she thought. If he didn’t love me, then why would he sweat me 24/7 about where I’m at or where I’m going? Why would he tell me to stop going to club
s and stop wearing tight pants?
In her young mind, his actions just pointed to one thing: love. Love is blind, even Eve said so. Mimi just swore up and down that she was his wifey, and he was the best thing for her on earth. However, one thing for certain and two things for sure, what’s done in the dark will eventually come to light. Evidence of Twan’s cheating ways began to surface.
“Damn, where the fuck is this nigga at?” Mimi asked herself, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall. She noticed he was over two hours late and she’d already beeped him three times. Now she decided to call his cell phone, which she only did in extreme emergencies as instructed by him.
On the fifth ring, a girl’s voice could be heard through the handset, “Hello.”
“Hello, Twan?” Mimi questioned, knowing that didn’t sound like him.
“Who is dis?” a female voice asked, somewhat agitated.
“This his girl, bitch,” Mimi answered back. “Put Twan on the phone and he’ll tell you who the fuck th…”
Click! The call was cut short and Mimi never finished her sentence. That’s as far as she got before the line went dead. She tried to call back several times but got no answer. Then Mimi dialed his beeper number and kept hitting redial for the rest of the night. She knew a way numerically to spell curses like ‘fuck you’ or ‘go to hell.’ So, she jammed his beeper with that shit for hours and hours.
The next day, he finally called and with the lamest excuse.
“Where the fuck was you last night? Who the fuck was that bitch who answered your phone?” Mimi asked, as if the world was coming to an end.
Playing it off, Twan calmly said, “What you talkin’ ‘bout? I got locked up last night and I just got outta Central Booking.” He responded like that shit was the truth.
“For what?” she asked, interrogating him.
B-More Careful Page 6
