by U. E. Wynn
“Dammit Koran!” Jahad slammed his hand against the wall. “Why you bein’ so fucking hard headed. What you think moms would say if she found out?”
“C’mon Jah. Mom don’t know a damn thing about the M.G.’s so come with something better than that lame ass excuse. This is what I want. All I’m asking for is one chance. Just one chance and I swear I won’t let you down.”
Jahad stared at him through slanted eyes for a full minute. “You wanna chance, huh?”
“Just one.”
“A’ight,” he nodded, thinking of a scheme that would work in his favor. At least he thought it would. “A’ight, this the lick though. If you make it through all this extra shit I throw at you, then you’re in. If not…”
“What extra shit?” Koran asked frowning.
“I ain’t finished!” Jahad snapped. “If you can’t handle it, then you take your ass to college and never mention the M.G.’s to me again. We gotta deal or what?”
“I’m saying, what’s this extra shit you talking bout?”
“You’ll find out if you agree to the deal.”
“It ain’t no crazy shit is it?”
Jahad shrugged his shoulders.
Reluctantly Koran nodded. “A’ight, Jah. But don’t try to trick me on some bungee jumping fear factor shit.”
Jah laughed. “I ain’t gonna trick you. It won’t be no cake walk though.”
“When do I start?”
“As soon as you take off my chain and go to the park.”
“The park? What the hell am I suppose to do in the park?”
“Nothing. I want you to sit on one of the hard ass park benches and watch everything moving.” He looked at his watch. “It’s ten now so I’ll only give you two hours tonight. Tomorrow, though from eight to twelve. That’s where you’ll be. Don’t talk to nobody unless you have to. You’ll be out there for a reason. Can you guess what?”
“Yeah, but what the hell does sitting in the park have to do with me becoming a M.G?”
“Every fucking thing! Niggaz in this shit are special made niggaz. We been through shit that you couldn’t possibly understand. If you gonna be one of us you gonna go through the same shit we went through, know what we know, and think how we think. Just because you my brother don’t mean nothing. You gotta prove yourself nigga.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I ain’t no M.G. because I wanted to be one. I didn’t want this shit, it chose me. Though times I got bagged, bodied nigga’s, I didn’t want none of that shit to happen. But it’s what life dealt me. It’s what made me a M.G. That goes for every nigga that’s part of this shit. You understand?”
Koran nodded.
“I doubt it,” Jahad snorted. “But you will by the time you become a M.G. Until that day, starting right now, all your time belongs to me. In the morning we going to the P.A.L. and I’ll plug you in with the old man Jimmy. He’s trained a few title holders. That will be five mornings a week; Monday through Friday. When you come home from the gym, I’ll have some books I want you to read and memorize. That should keep you busy until it’s time for you to hit the park. Weekends we going to the firing range and I’ll take you up on the roof and show you some shit I learned when I was at Spofford.
“That partying shit is dead. That shopping shit is dead. All that fucking you were doing is dead. You won’t have time for it. No more hanging out. No more…”
“Damn Jah. You saying I can’t get no pussy at all? C’mon man!” Koran looked stricken.
Jahad laughed. Koran was juggling six girlfriends all from different parts of the city. “We’ll work something out. Listen to what I’m bout to say though. Love and the M.G.s don’t mix so don’t go falling in love with no bitch.”
“Pssss! Me fall in love? Picture that.”
“I’m serious Koran. We loyal to only three things. Ourselves, our families and the M.G.’s. Ain’t nothing outside those three. I’ll give you a little room so you can keep doing what you doing. That’s keeping a stable of ho’s to choose from so you won’t be spending too much time with one chick. Got that?”
“Yeah, is that all?”
“Hell nah. You know me. I’ll keep coming up with some new shit just to keep you occupied since you wanna be a M.G. Whatcha’ waiting for? Don’t you got somewhere you need to be?” Jahad pointed towards the door resisting a smile after seeing look on Koran’s face.
Chapter Three
The next morning after Jahad dropped Koran off at the boxing gym, he drove to Harlem for a meeting with the Heads. Koran’s knowledge and request to become a M.G. had to be brought to the table. He figured he was about to catch hell for a good reason, since he had voted for the books to be closed. He was against the decision himself. Koran was too young and the last thing he wanted was for his brother to be murdered. There was really no way around it though with Koran knowing their secret. The only option was a thought Jahad couldn’t begin to fathom and he wouldn’t let the Heads speak of it.
As he made a left on 130th and Lenox driving towards Prince’s brownstone he mentally cursed Koran for forcing his hand, something he seemed to be good at. The impression it would make on his comrades bothered him if they didn’t understand his reasoning. Maybe they would think he was blatantly disregarding what he had made law just because he could. Or worse, think he was taking a stand as the role leader when all five ran the organization as one. No matter how they took it, he wasn’t about to let no harm come to Koran regardless of how they felt.
Nearing Prince’s home in his 1979 Rusty brown Delta 88 Oldsmobile he spotted Stars silver 745i BMW parked behind Prince’s white CL 55 Mercedes Benz directly in front of the brownstone. Lord’s burgundy Yukon Denali was parked slightly on the curb on the other side of the street. He must be high Jahad thought. He saw no signs of Sha’s forest green Range Range Rover and figured he rode with Lord. They meant they both were probably high.
Out of all the Heads, Jahad was the only one who did not own a stable of cars. For years they hounded him to get rid of his hoopty, but the car was once his father’s and held sentimental value. He would never get rid of it. So when his friends called him an African Cab driver it didn’t bother him at all.
Whenever he wanted to stunt, which wasn’t often, he drove a 2004 black 600 Mercedes Benz that he kept in an alley behind his moving company. The secret life he had made him cautious about drawing too much attention, something he once stressed to the other Heads. If they didn’t have legitimate business to account for their income more than likely they would be driving beat up cars.
After parking behind Lord’s truck he got out his rust bucket, took a deep breath, then made his way towards the brownstone scanning the street as he went. He had done so much dirt over the years he was constantly looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t get caught slipping. Before he made it up the steps Sha’ pulled up in his Range and parked in front of Lords’ truck.
He was the tallest of the Heads standing at a slim six three. She hopped out the truck smiling, showing off his hundred thousand dollar platinum diamond grill. He wore a typical Brooklynite outfit. Beef and broccoli Timberlands, army fatigue pants pulled up around his calf muscles, and a plain white tee shirt. His narrow face, long sharp nose, slanted brown eyes, and high cheekbones hinted at a trace of Asian in his blood although his roots were from Antigua.
“A yo, that’s a damn shame.” He glanced at the Oldsmobile as he crossed the street. “You got all that damn money and still pushing that piece of shit.
Jahad smiled. “That’s a classic right there Son. All it needs is a paint job and I probably get few G’s for it.”
“Shit, you’ll have to pay a nigga to take it off your hands. Give me five hundred and I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“What’s that?”
“Blow that muthafucka up.” He laughed and gave Jahad hug. “What up with you and how the college boy?”
The smile left Jahad’s face. “I’m good, and the college boy is the reason I’m here. I need to holla about s
omething that came up with his stubborn ass.”
“He a’ight right?”
“Yeah, he a’ight. It’s….”
Jahad was cut off when Prince opened the front door. Years of good living turned his once 190 pound frame into 250 pounds of chubbiness, but he wore it well. Decked out in a white Louis Vuitton velour sweat suit and white Prada sneakers, he was the most flamboyant out of the Heads. It was to be expected being where he was from though. He had a personal garage where he kept his expensive cars and wore thousand dollar outfits every day of the week. The Louis X111 liquor he drunk went for $1300 a bottle. The reefer he smoked was priced at $650 an ounce. His cover was a barbershop he owned on Broadway, a clothing store on 125th, and a night club on the lower east side that catered to the young white people.
“What y’all holding the meeting out here or something? Get your asses in here,” he said with a smile spread across his wide face.
The inside of his home showed another reflection of his extravagant lifestyle. Black marble floors, expensive English furniture and built in wall aquariums in the foyer. A huge white bear pelt, its head raised baring sharp teeth, layered the living room floor beneath an octagon shaped black onyx coffee table. Lord sat behind the bar off to the right not far from the 60 inch plasma television that was built into the wall with a gold picture frame boarding the edges. On the love seat Star sat rolling blunts, his head bobbing to Papoose’s gritty rhymes playing on a Kay Slay mix tape.
“What up with you niggaz?” Lord asked, glancing up as he poured a drink. The oldest Head, he sported a neatly trimmed full beard and was rarely caught without wearing a black or white Kuffie. He wore a wife beater that looked like it was about to split across his wide barrel chest, gray Roc-A-Wear sweatpants, and a pair of gray and white Air Jordans. Standing at five-eleven, he weighed close to 270 pounds and all muscle. “What y’all drinking?”
“Give me some of that expensive shit Prince be drinking on the rocks.” Sha’ grabbed one of Star’s rolled blunts, lit it, and choked instantly.
“I was gonna smoke that,” Star said grilling him, then went back to rolling blunts. He had a box of White Owl Cigars on the table in front of him with two more left to roll. At five-seven, he was the shortest Head, but the deadliest, mainly because of his size and looks. He had the youthful face of a sixteen year old although he was twenty six with long Congo dreads that hung to his waist.
“Nigga you just finish rolling one.”
Star gave Sha’ a devilish grin. “You know I always try to smoke Prince shit up when I come over here. What up Jah?”
“Ain’t shit Homey. I got something I need to spit with y’all about...” He Paused and turned to Prince. “A yo Price, dead the music for a minute, son.”
Prince shut the music off by remote control and took a seat in his recliner while Lord passed out the drinks.
“What up, Jah? Everything good on your end right?” Lord asked, handing Jahad his drink before taking a seat on the couch.
“Yeah, ain’t no problems. I gotta spit with y’all about something that came up with Koran. Before I get into it, I want y’all to hear me out first and try to understand where I’m coming from before you say anything.”
“C’mon with the dramatic shit Jah and say what you gotta say,” Star said sitting up in his seat.
Jahad looked at each of his friends. “Koran knows what's up with us. I mean the M.G.’s. He…”
“What!” All four Heads shouted at once.
“A yo! Hear me out… Damn! He knows what’s up. I just found out last night. The lil’ nigga been knowing since he was a kid.”
“Has he told anybody?” Prince asked.
“Nah, he ain’t say…”
“You believe him?” Star broke in.
“Hell yeah, I believe him!” Jahad snapped, feeling anger rise in his chest. “When the lil’ nigga was only ten he saw me and Razor body sixteen muthafucka’s and never said a word to nobody. My brother ain’t no muthafucking rat.”
“Nobody said he was Jah. It was only a question,” Lord said playing the mediator.
“Yeah, so calm the fuck down,” Star added.
Jahad Started to bark, but Star was only being Star.
“Okay, so he knows.” Sha’ looked around at each head. “You know the only logical thing to do right? I mean, Jah I understand he’s your brother, but…”
“What the fuck you talking about Sha’?” Jahad stood up ready to pounce.
“I’m saying,” Sha’ continued unfazed. “He can still go to college or whatever, but we need to bring him in, make him one of us.”
“Oh,” relief swept over Jahad as he sat back down.
“We can’t bring him in. The books are closed, remember.” Sha’ looked pointedly at Jahad. “And another thing, just because he your brother don’t mean he built for the M.G.’s. Shit, he only seventeen. He ain’t been through enough to be one of us. I mean, I believe you when you say he can keep his mouth shut, but being able to hold water don’t qualify him to be a M.G. It’s more to it than that. You know that Jah.”
“Yeah, I do. If I didn’t, the M.G. wouldn’t exist right now,” Jahad replied coldly reminding Star whose idea it was to form the organization. “You think I would bring him in without making sure he was built for it first? If he proves himself after I take him through this shit he started last night, then he’s in. That’s if I get two of you to agree with me.”
“What you mean?” Lord asked, sitting his drink down.
“Koran wants to be a M.G. That’s the reason he told me he knows about us. So I made a deal with him. For the next year or so I’ma put his ass through training on some military shit. If he can make it through everything, he’s in. If not, he goes to college and never mentions the M.G.’s to me again.”
“You serious?” Sha’ asked, surprised.
“Yeah, and I want y’all to help me.”
“How?” Prince and Star asked.
“I told him before he can come in he gotta go through the same shit we went through. We learned most of what we know from the streets so that’s where I put his ass. Right now I got him in the Big Park so he can study niggaz. I wanna keep him out there for a few months them send him to one of y’all so he can post up a block somewhere in your hoods. Rain, hail, sleet or snow I want his ass on the streets. By the time he puts in three or four months on one spot send him to another part of the city. Keep doing that shit until he’s familiar with everything in each spot. The hustlers, crackheads, dope fiends, beatwalkers, stick up kids, everybody. Then…”
“That shit could take years, Jah,” Star cut in.
Jahad smiled. “I know. That’s the whole idea. Hopefully he’ll get fed up and take his stubborn ass to college. I know you don’t think I want him involved in this shit. I tried to talk him out of it, but he claims it’s what he wants, so I’ma give it to him the hard way. On the weekends I want him at the firing range until he can use a gun better than a cowboy. Star, your knife game is sick. Teach him that shit. Lord, when he’s with you, put his ass on them weights. We all got boxing gyms around our way. I want him in there five days a week. Sooner or later he’ll break. If not, he’ll be just as dangerous as we are.”
No one spoke for a moment, then Lord gave Jahad a solemn look. You sure you wanna do this Jah? I mean, that’s your brother man. We might fuck around and turn him into an animal. Koran has a future, you know?”
“Lord, I told him the same shit and he didn’t wanna listen. The plan is to break him.”
“Why not just tell him no?” asked Prince.
“I did at first. He threw some shit in my face that I won’t say forced my hand, but made me consider giving him a chance. Don’t worry, he won’t make it through this shit. If he do he’ll be a bad muthafucka.”
~~~~~
After the meeting broke up Jahad and Prince sat in the living room reminiscing over their time spent at Rikers Island once the other Heads left. Jahad was in the process of taking a sip from his third
glass of Louis XIII when Prince brought up someone he had been trying to get off his mind for months.
“A yo what happened with you and Candy?”
“Who?” Jahad said playing ignorant.
“Candy nigga. The chick I plugged you in with on V.I. What? The pussy wasn’t good or something?”
Jahad laughed. “Oh Candy. Nah, just the opposite. If I woulda kept fucking shorty I’d be fucked up. Why you ask?”
“I saw her a few weeks ago up on Broadway and she asked about you. Said she ain’t heard from you in a few months. Thought you was locked up.”
A warm feeling filled Jahad’s chest like it did every time he thought of Candy. After his relationship with Janet he vowed to never fall in love again and he didn’t want to. Then Candy came along and made him feel emotions he thought were dead inside him. She was everything he could ask for in a woman. Beautiful, sexy, street smart, loving and she minded her business. The qualities that had the potential to make him fall in love. So instead of falling victim to his emotions, he backed out of their relationship suddenly without warning. Love was a deceiver. This he learned from Janet.
“Do me a favor. If you bump into her again tell her I got bodied.”
“What?” Prince frowned. “C’mon Jah it ain't that serious.”
“It is to me.”
“That chick Janet fucked it up for everybody, huh?”
“Yeah, she did. I’m on some stick and move shit now and Candy wants more than I can give. I mean, she wasn’t putting no pressure on me for commitment, but she was doing lil’ shit to draw me in.”
“Using pussy power?” Prince laughed.
“Was she! You just don’t know. Throwing the pussy on me all crazy, cooking for a nigga, back rubs. Shit a bitch do when she trying to lock a nigga down.” Jahad shook his head. “Yeah son, she was trying to get me.”
“I’m saying Jah, you don’t wanna have kid’s some day? A few rugrats to hold your name down.”
Jahad sat back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling before answering. “You know, I never really thought about having kids. But yeah, I gotta have a few lil Jah’s running around.”
