by U. E. Wynn
“You’re serious?” she asked, with a spark of hope in her voice.
Koran nodded, dreading what he knew had to be done. Don’t do it! Don’t do it! Think of your mother, your sister. Imagine if someone murdered them in cold blood for nothing. She’s innocent Koran! She’s innocent! Frosty was your target. Frosty, not her! He clenched his teeth and fought with his conscience. He fought the softening of his heart and pushed his emotions aside.
“Lead the way, Ma.”
She gave him one last look and turned to lead him to the door. Before she could take a step, Koran wrapped an arm around her neck and with one vicious twist killed her instantly. Once her limp body fell to the floor guilt rushed him in waves.
“I had to goddammit! I had to!” he roared, gripping his head. He stared at her a moment and a vision of his mother lying dead before him filled his mind. Kneeling down in front of her he brushed his hand lightly across her smooth chocolate cheek with tears on the brim of his eyes. “I’m sorry shorty. I didn’t wanna do it. I swear I didn’t,” he whispered. He stood up and fought to get his emotions under control again.
When Koran walked into the child’s room Jamel looked up, his large brown eyes focusing on the gun tucked in front of Koran’s jeans.
“Bang Bang!” Jamel said and pointed the gun.
“Huh?” Koran looked down, then smiled. “Yeah, this my bang, bang,” he said, moving the gun to the small of his back.
“Mommy? Where’s mommy?”
No amount of self control could keep the anguish from showing on Korans’ face. “You like ice cream lil’ man?”
Jamel nodded. “I eat ice came.”
“How about cheesecake? You like cheesecake?”
“Cake and ice came!” Jamel squealed, holding his arms up, gesturing for Koran to pick him up. “Mommy get ice cream too?”
“Nah, lil’ homey. It’s me and you now. I’ma hold you down though, a’ight?”
“Alwight.”
~~~~
True to his words after leaving with Jamel Koran changed into a clean set of clothes he kept in the stolen black Honda Accord. Once he made it to the Bronx, he and Jamel went to Fun World on Fordham Road for cake and ice cream. From there he took his time driving home knowing a confrontation awaited him once he explained to Jahad that Jamel was now part of the family.
Jahad sat in front of the television, eyes glued to the Madden video game he played. He paid no attention when Koran walked in with Jamel asleep in his arms. Koran placed the briefcase on the coffee table, sat on the loveseat, and lay Jamel beside him.
“Is it done?” Jahad asked, without turning away from the television.
“Yeah, it’s a wrap for dude. I ran into some problems though.”
“What kind of...” Jahad paused when he saw Jamel, who had curled up into a ball. “Who’s that?”
“That’s the problem I ran into. His name is Jamel. I had to body dude and his shorty. Lil’ dude was at the crib so…”
“What you bring him here for?” Jahad asked, frowning.
Koran looked at Jamel for a moment before answering. “I’m keeping him.”
“You what? Have you lost your damn mind? You keeping him! He ain’t no fucking puppy, Koran!” Jahad couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Who the hell is suppose to take care of him?”
“I’ll handle that. I made the lil’ dude a promise. I gotta keep it, Jah!”
“Hell no!” Jahad shook his head. “Think about what you saying, Koran. You bodied the niggas parents. You know the cops gonna be looking for him like crazy. It’s too much damn heat. What you gone do is take his ass to the nearest orphanage and leave him on the steps. What the fuck wrong with you?”
“I…”
“Another thing,” Jahad went on. “You’re nineteen with a lot of shit on your plate. How you figure you can have time to raise the lil’ nigga, answer that?”
Koran took the time to think about everything that Jahad said and couldn’t deny the truth. For a while Jamel’s face would probably be all over the news, which would bring all types of heat. This didn’t stop him from keeping his word though. All babies looked alike. It would be nothing to pass Jamel off as a little brother or even his son, he thought, warming to the idea. As far as the other activities, he didn’t see Jamel interfering too much. Most of his time was spent at Joe’s learning the business. That’s when he wasn’t out doing what he did best. Emma would be more than happy to babysit whenever he had to be out.
“You know I can’t beef with you Jah. You’re right. It’s gonna bring crazy heat. On the same token, I can’t abandon the lil’ nigga. I’m not! If I get bagged or whatever I’ll hold my own. You know I will. What I need for you to do for me, if you will, is to get me some legit paperwork for him. Work with me on this Jah, please!”
“Dammit Koran!” Jahad stood up catching the stubborn look in Koran’s eyes. “It don’t matter what I say, do it. You just gonna do what you wanna do, huh?”
“Nah, it ain’t like that, but look at him Jah. Look at him!” Koran pleaded. “Where can he go? What can he do?”
Jahad glanced stone faced at Jamel as he slept with his thumb in his mouth and felt his defensives weaken. The child reminded him a lot of Koran when he was a baby.
“I couldn’t leave him in there Jah. I couldn’t. I know I’m a cold hearted muthafucka, but I ain’t that cold. He’s a lil’ trooper too. He ain’t cried all day.”
Jahad blew out a breath. “A’ight Koran. We gonna keep this between us, though. Don’t think I’m a be doing no damn baby sitting, and don’t be adopting no more damn kids. As much as you been busting your gun, before long we gonna have an orphanage in this muthafucka.”
Koran laughed, relieved. “I gotcha, Jah. Now lets get down to business.” He opened the briefcase. “I got $160,000.00. He only had seven ounces left so I ain’t fuck with it. I’m hoping the Jakes won’t investigate too much once they see it’s drug related.”
Jahad nodded. “Good thinking. We’ll split the dough since you took the time to search the crib. I ain’t giving the other Heads shit.”
“Why? What's up?”
“They voted with Sha’. I didn’t want you to do that shit,” Jahad replied, screwing up his face.
“What you mean? Do what?”
“Nothing. Check this out. It’s time you slow down. You doing too damn much. Since we brought you in you done bodied like fifteen muthafuckas. I…”
“Only ten,” Koran broke in.
“Ten, fifteen, what's the damn difference,” Jahad scowled. “You need to fall back. Your pride got you feeling like you got something to prove and you don’t. You proved everything when you bodied Premo so all that extra shit ain’t necessary. What you need to do is take a trip. Go visit mom’s. New York ain’t going nowhere nigga.”
“I can’t. I gotta keep my shorty’s serviced. I’m a stay low for a while though. At least until that heat blows over.”
“Yeah, do that. I just thought of something too. You don’t even know how to change a damn diaper.”
Koran grinned slyly. “That’s what my shorty’s are for.”
For close to six months Koran had been juggling five girls. He had a five day schedule with a day for each girl. Lisa, his good girl from Webster Avenue, get’s Monday. Monica, his Puerto Rican from Castle Hill, get’s Tuesday. Kim, his conceited girl from Harlem, get’s Wednesday. Tasha, his gangsta bitch from Brooklyn, get’s Thursday. And Erica, his model chick from Queens, get’s Friday. During the weekdays, his Range Rover stayed in traffic more than a dollar cab. Taking Jahad’s advice he made it known that he wasn’t looking for a steady girlfriend. His girls were free to date anyone they chose, just as he was. So far everything was working out fine. Well, Lisa and Monica were showing signs of falling in love, but that was their problem.
“You trickin’ ass nigga.” Jahad laughed. “Remember what I told you about bitches. Use them like niggas use fuck boys in jail. Once you get your nut, put them bitches back on the
shelf. Don’t fall in love man.”
Koran snorted. “Me? Fall in love? C’mon. That’ll be like seeing a skinhead in a 5% cipher. It’ll never happen,” he said, having no idea how wrong he was.
Chapter Eight
Jamel woke Koran bright and early the next morning bouncing up and down on the bed. Koran, who was used to sleeping by himself, sprung up and reached for the Ruger 9mm he kept in between his mattress.
“What the… Oh, it’s you lil dude. What’s up?”
“Wet. I wet,” Jamel replied, still bouncing.
“Wet? Oh your diaper.” Koran slid out of bed and walked to his dresser. “I don’t got no diapers Jamel so I’ma have to find something for you.” He grabbed a pair of his boxers, shook his head, then settled for a tee shirt. “This will have to do for now. I’ll have to wrap it around your little ass.”
Use to this routine, Jamel lay back on the bed and Started fumbling with the sticker on his pamper. Once it was off, Koran went to wrap the tee shirt around him and Jamel shot a stream of piss right at his chest.
“Oh shit!” Koran shouted backing into the dresser. He looked down at Jamel, who had a crooked grin on his face and burst out laughing. “Oh word. You pulled an R. Kelly on me. What if I pissed on you? One of those hard long pisses. I betcha’ wouldn’t find it funny then.”
Jamel paid him no attention and kept grinning.
“I tell you what, Since you wanna piss on me, you’re gonna stay butt ass naked until one of my shorty’s get her to change you. And you better not shit on my bed either.”
“I shit! I shit!” Jamel giggled.
“You better not. Now chill here and let me call Lisa.”
“Mommy. Mommy. Where Mommy?”
Koran froze and felt a fresh wave of guilt. He had stayed up late last night terrified to fall asleep knowing the nightmares would come. He didn’t want to believe, although it was true, that he was so ruthless to kill an innocent woman, then steal her child. But, Jamel was now his responsibility. He would feed, protect, and raise him as if he were his own flesh and blood. That’s all that mattered. If he continued to dwell on what had been done, he would be no good to himself or Jamel.
“I know you won’t understand this,” he said, lifting Jamel to his lap. “But I’m your Mommy now lil’ homey. I’m your Moms and your Pops. And from now on, your lil’ Kay, a’ight?”
“Aw’ight.”
“And I’m Koran.”
“Ka-wan.” Jamel dabbed his finger in Korans’ chest.
“Yeah, that’s close enough.”
An hour later they were in bed watching cartoons when Lisa arrived with breakfast and pampers. Koran answered the door in his boxers and Jamel was still naked, both grinning.
“Hi sweety.” Lisa kissed Koran on the cheek before kneeling down in front of Jamel. “And look at you sexy. All baby fat and smiles.”
Standing at only five one and 115lbs, Lisa had the innocent face of an angel and the personality of a talk show host. Out of all his girls she was Koran’s favorite. Their fling Started back in high school. Never once had she asked for anything other than what he was willing to offer, which was a quality he liked most about her.
“This is my nephew Jamel. He’s cooling out with me for a while.”
“Jah-mel,” Jamel said, holding his arms out so she can pick him up.
“Well, let’s get a pamper on you.” Lisa dumped the diapers and food on the couch, then scooped Jamel up and buried a kiss on his chubby cheek.
Following them to the bedroom, Koran couldn’t help resist palming her bubble butt. “You’ll change my diaper too?”
Lisa giggled. “Sounds kinda kinky, but maybe.”
While she tended to Jamel, Koran went to the closet where he kept his stash. Jahad constantly hounded him about keeping so much money in the apartment, but Koran liked having his money close for easy access. Eighty thousand, along with his weekly salary of five thousand dollars, would allow him to trick lovely for a minute. He spent money on his girls for the sheer fun of it. It had nothing to do with love. He had always been kind-hearted to women. A value instilled by his mother, sister and Emma.
“Lisa I need a favor,” he called out. He took five individual thousand dollar stacks from a Nike shoe box, one of ten he kept stacked with money.
“If it has anything to do with putting a diaper on you I’m still thinking about it.”
Koran laughed. “Nah, I need you to go shopping for Jamel. My sister and her husband are doing some traveling for their anniversary, and Since my mom’s is going with them, I’m keeping Jamel until they get back. She dropped him off bare assed, though,” he lied, casting a sad smile.
“Aren’t you sweet.”
“I know right. So you got me? You can take my truck and I’ma give you a ‘G’ for yourself.”
“Say no more.” Lisa smiled hosting Jamel up. “You hear that sexy? We’re going shopping.”
“Jamel can’t go,” Koran said quickly. “My brother is on the way to pick him up.”
“I go!” Jamel cried, clinging to Lisa.
Koran shook his head. For a while he and Jamel wouldn’t be going anywhere. “Nah, lil’ homy. You want some ice cream?”
“Ice came!” Jamel pushed away from Lisa and reached for Koran.
“You sold me out for some ice cream.” Lisa laughed while tickling his pot belly. “You want me to spend four thousand dollars on baby clothes?”
“Yeah. Hit up Fordham Road. Get clothes, sneakers, toys, and mad pampers. Cop him a chain and a bracelet too. Think you’ll need some more dough?”
“Are you kidding!”
“Nah, this my lil nigga right here.” Koran smiled, ruffling Jamel’s curly black hair.
~~~~
For a straight week the story of the missing child played every night on the news. Koran cancelled all his dates with the exception of Lisa, whom he allowed to come over every few days just to see if she had an idea of who Jamel really was. As much as he would hate to do it, if she ever found out, he would be left with no choice but to kill her. Jamel was his now and he would kill anyone who posed a threat.
Time seemed to slow down the first three months they stayed cooped up inside the apartment. The only time they went out was after dark for quick runs to Baskin and Robbins. The time also proved to be a blessing. A bond was formed between Jamel and Koran deeper than any father and son. To hear Jamel laugh, or see a smile on his chubby face, warmed Koran’s cold heart.
They were on the couch watching a Disney movie the day Jahad came home with a brown manilla envelope under his arm. Unlike Koran, Jahad’s relationship with Jamel was just the opposite. He wanted no dealings with Jamel period. He felt the child would somehow interfere with Koran’s loyalty to the M.G.s. This would soon change.
“Here’s your paperwork.” He tossed the envelope on the coffee table, then grabbed the remote control and turned to ESPN missing the scowl Jamel gave him. “There’s a birth certificate and social security card under the name Michael Copeland, born April 8th 2004, at Jacoby Hospital. “It’s all legit.”
Koran inspected the birth certificate finding his name typed beside the spaced labeled father. “Good looking, Jah. Word up.”
“Good looking my ass. That’ll cost you fifteen hundred. I want my dough too.”
“Turn TV!” Jamel shouted, sliding off the couch with his little hand bunched into a fist. “Turn TV!”
Jahad smirked. “And if I don’t? What?”
Jamel looked around, grabbed Korans’ cell phone and hit Jahad on the leg. “Turn TV, now!”
They glanced at one another a second, then Jahad burst out laughing as he turned back to the movie. “You see this shit! The lil’ nigga thinks he can beat my ass.”
Koran smiled proudly. “C’mon Kay. You don’t gotta fuck him up.”
“Fuck up, Nugga,” Jamel said, giving Jahad one last scowl before climbing in Koran’s lap. Jahad laughed so hard tears ran from his eyes. From that moment on he accepted Jamel as a pa
rt of the family.
Chapter Nine
After seven months of being cooped up inside the apartment Koran Started to feel like they were in a well equipped prison. He was fed up with their daily routine of watching cartoons, playing video games, and nightly runs for ice cream. It had become downright boring. It was this same boredom that persuaded him to finally take Jamel out during daylight hours. Months of going without sunlight had lightened both their complexions. Jamel’s chocolate skin to a light caramel brown and Koran’s high yellow to a pale chalky beige.
Jamel’s hair had grown out which Lisa kept cornrolled or either in Single plaits. Koran doubted if anyone would recognize him. They were only going to the ballpark anyway. He dressed Jamel in a Roc-A-Wear jean suit, a pair of brown suede timberlands, and a brown Phat Farm sweat shirt matching his own outfit. Jamel, excited to be going out, ran circles around Koran’s legs as he took the battery Operator Hummer from the pantry.
“Outside Ka-wan. Outside?”
“Yeah, Kay. We going outside. Now chill before you make me bust my ass.”
Jamel giggled while trying to climb in his truck. “Kay drive!”
He had one foot inside when Koran lifted him out. “Wait ‘till we get to the park, then you can drive all you want, a’ight?”
“Aw-ight. Ice came Ka-wan?”
Koran shook his head, smiling, something he did often with Jamel around. “I’ll think about it. Now c’mon big head.”
“You big head,” Jamel laughed, running to the front door while, Koran pushed the truck behind him. Exiting the building they bumped into Derrick, Jahad’s head lieutenant and childhood friend who lived on the third floor in the building. Derrick was one of the original M.G’s. His loyalty to Jahad dated back to grad school. Dressed in a black Sean John velour sweatsuit, a plain white tee shirt, and a pair of white Nike Air Force Ones, he could still pass for a teenager although he would turn twenty seven in August. His face was hairless except for a neatly trimmed mustache. He had thin eyebrows that curved over his small close set brown eyes. He stood six-one with a slim build and wore his hair in four thick cornrolls.
