B-More Careful

by Shannon Holmes

  “I’m about to finish the game, yo. I’m going to kill that New York nigga, Mann, and that dope fiend bitch, Mimi, with this,” he said, stopping what he was doing to give his brother a devilish grin.

  Stink was more than a little disappointed with the method Black chose for murder. He wanted to kill Mann gangster style. He wanted to shoot him to death and watch him bleed.

  Black busied himself bagging up half the hot shot and cooking up the other half in a mayonnaise top over a low flame on the stove. When that was done, Black went back to the table. He went into his jacket pocket, pulling out an old filthy hypodermic needle he’d found in the alley. He drew up some water from a puddle in the sink, squirting it through to make sure the needle worked. Satisfied, he drew up 50cc’s of his poison potion, then cautiously cradled the needle in his hand as he headed toward the basement door.

  This should be enough to kill him, Black thought.

  The sounds of footsteps coming down the basement stairs awoke Mann from his nap. Alerted and aware he had company, Mann listened to the two sets of footsteps closing in on him.

  What are these jokers up to now? Mann thought as he felt a pair of hands roughly rolling his sleeve up. Panicked he began shifting his weight from side to side in the chair, trying to prevent them from doing whatever they were trying to do.

  “Stink, hold this motherfucker down!” Black hollered.

  Securely fastened to the chair, Mann wasn’t much of a match for Stink. He bear-hugged him to keep him still. It wasn’tuntilthe needle stabbed Mann in the right arm did he know what was happening. This was it; Mann felt it through his veins.

  Black squeezed every drop of poison out of the needle. It quickly entered Mann’s bloodstream and raced straight towards his heart. Mann’s insides were on fire and he began to sweat profusely, going into violent convulsions. Mann tipped his chair over, desperately trying to scream and free himself. Black and Stink backed up and watched him squirm around on the floor until he no longer moved. Within minutes, Mann was dead, and a sick smile spread across Black’s face.

  Later that night, they dumped Mann’s body in Druid Hill Park in West Baltimore. The next day, a morning jogger spotted Mann’s body in some bushes and notified the authorities. The Baltimore Sun newspaper carried a small article. The headline read, ‘New York Man Found Dead in Druid Hill.’ Tone happened to be reading the paper when he came across the article.

  “Yo, I’ma kill that nigga. Word to mother, I don’t care where I see that nigga or who he’s with,” he vowed.

  Tone took the news hard. It began to affect his thought process, causing him to think reckless, regardless of the consequences.

  “You know where that nigga lives at?” he demanded to know.

  Netta merely shook her head no. She helplessly watched him pace the bedroom floor endlessly. No words came to mind that could relieve his stress.

  “What about his mother? You know where that bitch lives?” Tone asked crazily.

  Again, Netta shook her head no. It hurt to see Tone go crazy right before her very eyes.

  Tone was bitter and mad at the world. He felt directly responsible for Mann’s death. In his mind, it was all his fault. If only he had left Mann in New York, this wouldn’t have happened. Tone swore on his life, he would avenge his cousin’s death. He knew the only way to deal with a beast like Black was with violence. Slay or be slain. The only thing power respects is power.

  Unable to face his family, Tone stayed down in Baltimore after sending Mann’s body back to the Bronx. He knew that they would blame him for what happened. Tone couldn’t bear to face them until he took care of Black. At least his mind would be at ease knowing that he had handled his business. Then and only then could he deal with whatever the family had to say.

  Tone put the word out on the street that he was going back to New York for good, as if he didn’t want any more trouble. He let everybody think that he was soft, so that Black would drop his guard. In reality, he was on a murder mission and wanted nothing more than to find Black.

  Netta temporarily put her life on hold for Tone. Though he never blamed her, she felt personally responsible for what had happened. Netta watched Tone sink deeper and deeper into depression and revenge. She tried to console him. She loved him so much. She wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone, and his pain was her pain. Netta never loved any man the way she loved Tone and Tone was about to test that love.

  “I love you,” she said passionately.

  “Do you really love me?” he asked.

  “No doubt. Tone, I’d die for you,” she said, meaning every word.

  “Damn, that’s deep. Would you kill for me?” he asked right back.

  Netta just stared at him. There was no need in wondering what he was talking about. He was going to let her know.

  “I need you to take care of something.”

  “What?” Netta asked, not sure if she wanted to know.

  “Kill Mimi. You know she set up my lil’ cousin to get murdered. Kill her,” Tone said, coldly.

  He had just asked her to commit the ultimate crime, the ultimate sin. As crazy as it sounded, Netta actually was contemplating it. Though her new life was nice, she never had grown fully accustomed to it. Netta still had the same street mentality in her she always had. Old habits do die hard. Netta thought long and hard about the question Tone placed in front of her. Kill Mimi, kill Mimi, kill Mimi. His words echoed in her brain. Netta thought about everything. All she had been through. All she had done. For everything it was worth, she didn’t know if she could risk it all in the name of love or in the name of Tone.

  Chapter 26

  Sitting in the living room, in total darkness, Mimi was high as a kite flying next to clouds. Nodding, saliva was running out the corners of her mouth. She was drowning in her emotions feeling helpless.

  “Oh my God, what have I done?” she asked, after finding out what happened to Mann. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that. They weren’t supposed to kill him, she thought. No, things had gone too far.

  Black’s scheme had brought about consequences she never imagined, death. Paranoid, Mimi was living on the edge of reality not caring about anything but her next high. Going into seclusion, she avoided everybody. She feared for her life, so she stayed clear of Black. After all, he killed Ty, Mann and God knows who else. Mimi stayed confined in the same apartment she once shared with Mann, only going out to cop her dope. She refused to answer the phone or the door.

  In her trance-like state, Mimi never heard the apartment door quietly open and shut. She never saw the perpetrator advance towards her in the darkness. Suddenly, the lights clicked on. Mimi’s heart skipped a beat, scared she thought Black had finally tracked her down. She tried snapping out of her drug-induced stupor, but her droopy eyelids struggled to open as her pupils tried adjusting to the light. She squinted and blinked until she focused her vision. By this time, a dark blurry figure dressed in all black was standing over top of her clutching a snub nose .38.

  “Mimi?” Netta questioned, as she stood above her unsure of her target. She couldn’t believe how bad Mimi looked. There were rings around her eyes like she hadn’t slept in days. Her hair was unkempt and wild. Her nose was caked up and crusted with snot, boogers and dope.

  “Nedda?” Mimi slurred, as she recognized the sound of her friend’s voice. Ashamed, she never wanted Netta to see her like this. She continued, “How you get here?”

  “Don’t worry about how. Look at you! Why is you fucking with that shit?” Netta asked, still holding the house keys Tone had gotten from the coroner when he identified Mann’s body.

  “I dunno,” Mimi mumbled. Embarrassed, her chin was glued to her chest. To see her in this condition hurt Netta more than Mimi’s betrayal. Her girl was hooked on dope. She took pity on Mimi and suddenly began to have second thoughts about killing her.

  “Why did you set Mann up, yo? What did he ever do to you?”

  Sobbing, she answered, “he slapped me!” Her voice quiv
ered, and she sounded like a spoiled brat, as if she believed her answer was justifiable.

  “B-B-B-Black pumped me up to do it. He tricked me. They was just supposed to bank Mann, beat him up, but they kidnapped him, they … kilt him,” she continued.

  “Didn’t you know that Black was the one who tried to kill me? And even if you didn’t know, how could you fuck with him? That’s some trifling shit. Damn, Mimi you was supposed to be my best friend. How could you?” Netta said.

  This was supposed to be easy, in and out, just point and shoot. No rappin’, just do what you got to do, according to Tone. He never considered their friendship, their bond, because he never recognized them as having one. This made the task more difficult. Mimi wasn’t a stranger, she was a friend.

  “I’m sorry Netta, I swear I didn’t know Black did that to you,” Mimi cried out.

  Not knowing wasn’t a good enough excuse for Netta. She raised the gun to Mimi’s head. With her hand on the trigger, she began to tremble uncontrollably. She couldn’t pull it. Netta’s mind was playing tricks on her. Do it! Don’t do it! Do it! Don’t do it, she’s your friend. Do it, the bitch is a snake. Do it for Tone. He loves you. Voices echoed in Netta’s head battling back and forth. Netta thought she was going crazy. She lowered the gun.

  “Don’t kill me Netta. I love you, please don’t kill me,” Mimi said, capitalizing on Netta’s indecisiveness.

  “Why, Mimi, why? Why you tell Rasheeda and them all those lies about me? Why’d you cross me like that, yo?” Netta asked.

  Remorseful, Mimi began to cry.

  “Netta, you always picked men over me. First it was Major, then Black and then Tone. You let all them niggas come between us. Netta, can’t you see I love you?” Mimi asked, tears streaming down her face.

  “Bitch, what the fuck you talking about? You so fucking high off that shit, you don’t even make sense. I was always there for you, always there for you, Mimi!”

  This was an emotional moment. Sluggishly, Mimi struggled to her feet, while Netta watched her a few feet away. Stumbling, Mimi made her way over to Netta. When she reached her, she hugged and kissed her softly on the cheek.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was jealous,” Mimi said.

  She hugged Netta again, kissing her other cheek. Then quickly, Mimi moved from Netta’s cheek to her lips, kissing her on her lips as she forcefully stuck her tongue in Netta’s mouth.

  Stunned, Netta was caught off guard. She reacted by violently pushing Mimi off her.

  “What is wrong with you, Mimi,” she asked, wiping her mouth. “Bitch, I’m not gay. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I love you Netta. I been in love with you since the first day we met. Remember when we met on the bus?” Mimi asked, regaining her balance.

  “Motherfucker, I’m not gay,” Netta said, as she spit on the floor. “Damn, I can’t believe you.”

  Netta couldn’t believe Mimi came on to her. She remembered all the times they shared the room when they were growing up, all the times she got undressed, all the little moments they had shared. Netta leveled her gun, taking aim at Mimi’s head. She squinted one eye, using the gun’s sight to line her up. Slowly, Mimi kept advancing, but again, Netta couldn’t pull the trigger. Mimi walked right up on Netta as if the gun wasn’t there. Suddenly, with every ounce of energy in her body, Mimi swatted the gun out of Netta’s hand. Netta watched as the gun went flying across the room.

  Like a wild animal, Mimi leaped on Netta, knocking her to the floor. Landing on top, Mimi savagely clawed at Netta’s face as she tried to pin her arms down. Netta was fighting back as Mimi was fighting for her life.

  Netta used all the strength she could muster to hurl Mimi off her. Using the same momentum in her favor, Mimi took off crawling for the gun. Quickly, Netta sprang to her feet and grabbed Mimi’s ankle, dragging her backwards and away from the gun. Netta yanked on Mimi’s ankle so hard, that her hand slipped off and she was left holding only one white sock. Once again, Mimi was on the loose. But, instead of making a mad dash for the gun, she stood up to fight.

  The two women circled each other like wrestlers. Then, Netta faked high and went low, grabbing Mimi by the waist and slamming her down into the wooden coffee table. Then, she made a break for the weapon. Recovering quickly, Mimi was hot on her heels. Both women dived for the gun but Netta won the race. Extending her fingers and nails as far as they could reach, she fumbled with it on her fingertips until she gripped it. Mimi was on her back, holding onto her arm for dear life. They tussled for the gun, doing a series of rolls on the floor as they fought one another fiercely. Lamps and vases crashed to the floor, along with a black picture frame.

  “Aaah,” Mimi screamed, as Netta sank her teeth into her arm. This was enough to break Mimi’s hold. Momentarily, Netta gained the advantage firing off one shot. The scuffle was over. Mimi lay dead with a bullet embedded in her skull.

  Large multi-colored wreaths decorated the funeral parlor. Paying their last respects at the wake, Netta greeted Mimi’s grieving mother and son, offering her condolences. It was as if she didn’t play a part in Mimi’s death.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Tina,” Netta woefully apologized, breaking down in tears.

  “I know baby, I know. It will be all right, Netta. Calm down, baby. It will be alright,” Tina agonizingly replied as they embraced.

  Tina was so consumed by Netta’s grief, she almost forgot about her own. Poor Tina, the game had claimed all of her children in one way or another. She never knew that the very thing in life that brought her so much joy would turn around and cause her so much pain.

  As Netta played the role of a grief-stricken friend and not murderer, the funeral home began to fill up with mourners. Young people from the hood, former classmates and the Pussy Pound came to pay their last respects. One by one, they passed the casket to view Mimi’s body, something Netta couldn’t bring herself to do. Her conscious was killing her and she couldn’t bear to see Mimi in the casket. She would have done anything to take back what she did. She tried to tell herself that Mimi was simply there sleeping, but deep inside, Netta knew she wasn’t. The guilt of what she had done was eating her alive. If only she could tell someone, maybe she’d feel better. She knew she wouldn’t though.

  Just then Netta stood as still as still could be. Looking like a mannequin, she watched as a tall, middle-aged, dark-skinned man brushed by her. He was dressed in a navy-blue suit and black shiny wing tipped shoes. Netta recognized him instantly. It was her father. It was Dollar.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  He walked up to the casket. Bending over, he kissed Mimi on the forehead. Then he mumbled a few words and he turned around to greet Tina, who broke down in his arms.

  “She’s in heaven now. Our baby girl is in heaven. It’s going to be okay. Our baby’s going to be okay,” Dollar said, consoling her.

  Netta, an earshot away didn’t need to hear him, but she could read his lips. It was like she was standing in low tide and watching a wave moving steadily toward her, crashing right on top of her head and taking her breath right out of her. Her whole entire world was about to collapse. Suddenly, Netta felt ill. Her stomach ached. The pain in her belly was the same pain that screamed as loud as her sobs. Her breath was breathless as she helplessly tried to breathe. Tiny beads of sweat gathered on top of her forehead like rain on a waxed car. Her eyes filled with tears as her face cracked of pain.

  What have I done? Oh, God, please forgive me, please. What have I done?

  People naturally assumed she was overcome by grief. But, it wasn’t, it was guilt. She’d killed her own sister.

  Just when Netta thought she’d played the hand that life dealt her, fate shuffled the deck and dealt her another card. Mimi’s father was her father. A sea of emotions swept her back to the day so long ago when she walked into the crowded bar, wanting to see her father, the only man that never wanted to see her.

  “Why, mommy, why?” she cried out. Never ever calling Renee that,
she saw her so still, but there was no answer. For so long, all the pain of abandonment and hatred she had for her mother had been eating her up too. She never cried for her mother. She never cried for anything. Even when she was in the hospital after all that Black had done to her, she never cried. Even Nurse McNeil cried when she was leaving, but she didn’t. However, she cried today. She cried for Miss Mae, for her mother, for Major, for Mann and for Mimi. She cried for all of them. But more, she cried for herself. I’m so sorry, Mimi, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I love you, Mimi. I love you.

  As the days passed, Netta felt the guilt not as a burden, but as a curse she would carry for the rest of her life. For every day God gave her life, she would have to live with what she had done. How could she, though? She killed her own sister. All the petty bickering over the years, of what nigga did this and what nigga was gonna do that, and who had this car, who had that piece of ice, who out-dressed who and all the little jealousies and evils brought them to this day. Netta was left standing alone.

  If it brings you anything, when you are finished destroying everyone around you, you will still have yourself left to deal with. This was Netta’s rock bottom. When her father walked into that funeral parlor, Netta’s invisible shield disintegrated. That shield protected her feelings and emotions all of her life. Without it, she was vulnerable and emotional, something she had never been.

  As days and weeks passed after the funeral, she contemplated suicide so much, but she just didn’t have the heart. Night after night, she sat on the toilet next to the bathroom sink and took a razor out of the tiny box. She placed the razor in her hand, then sat it on top of the inside of her wrist. She looked at the map of veins under her skin. All she had to do was slice, then it could all be over. Her life could be over, and she wouldn’t have to hurt anymore, no more pain.

  Please God, let me have the heart to do it. Please God, let me do it this time.

  But she didn’t have the heart to do it, or maybe that was just one prayer God wouldn’t answer. She put the razor down, feeling more insecure and hating herself for being a coward. She decided to try taking pills. She couldn’t swallow them though. Keeping it real with Tone had cost her dearly. She couldn’t even confide the truth to him that Mimi was her sister. So she kept the dark secret to herself and her sorrow for Mimi turned into rage. Long hours passed by as Netta thought to herself how to get back at Black for all he’d done. Yes, she knew she was guilty, but so was he and he would pay. Again, revenge would pay its part. She wanted to kill Black with a passion more than she wanted to kill herself.