Who Shot Ya Box Set

by Renta

  I heard a feminine voice say. “Get the gun out the car.” Then shit went black. “Say, Shy, I’m on my way dawg!”

  Chapter Three

  We Need You—Wake Up

  ~Jazzy~

  Weeks later— November 1, 2018

  The constant beeping of the EKG and all the other machines he was hooked to, sounded like seconds being counted down as God made a decision about his life. It was a time, I had to fight to hold on to hope and sanity. However, my grip on both seemed so fickle. It had been weeks since I was found in my house unconscious, drowning in my own blood from a head fracture. It had also been weeks since they found Assata naked outside of the hospital. He was apparently, dropped off by a fleeing vehicle.

  So much to say, yet so many jagged pieces that didn’t fit together. I honestly didn’t know what happened, except that Gusto was found dead under an underpass with three fatal shots to his back. He must have thought, I was dead the night he came to kill me. Thankfully, when the gun fired I hyperventilated and passed out. From what Mar told me I hit my head during the fall busting it wide open. What I burn to know was—who shot Gusto? Who saved my life without wanting to be acknowledged? Also what happened to Assata?

  They found him naked on the ground of the hospital. Once my girls found me at the house bleeding all over the floor, they got the ambulance ASAP! They’d stood beside me through the entire ordeal. Marcella kept me informed about what was being said in the streets, but I didn’t pay it any mind because people in the hood don’t know how to mind their own business. I stood over my baby and I allowed my fingers to trace the bandages wrapped around his face. It broke my heart to see my baby, laid up in that cold ass room with all those tubes and IV’s running in and out of him. He hadn’t as much as stirred since I came to his room. Still, I didn’t leave his side for anything besides to shit, piss, and go home to shower and get a change of clothes.

  I cried and prayed for him so much I wondered if Allah could hear me.

  I leaned over him with my lips inches from his ear. “Please, bae—wake up! I miss you, sooo much,” I whispered. “We miss you, yes I said we. I’m prego, Satta. You’re going to be a father. So, you see baby, you have to wake up,” I cried, as I laid my head on his chest.

  My tears soaked the hospital blanket and all I felt was helplessness. That was one of the hardest things for a woman to feel regarding her dude.

  ***

  ~Assata~

  I didn’t know how long I had been laid up in the hospital, but I had been mentally awake for days. I had heard everythang going on around me, especially Jazzy. The worse part ‘bout being comatose was not being able to respond! While listening to lil’ one cry and pray over me. It hurt like hell, not being able to heal that shit. Each time shawty mentioned, God I wanted to tell her He didn’t exist, but then again, who was I to rob her of her anchor to sanity? I had fought and fought to snap outta this coma shit, but my body just wasn’t rocking with my mind at that moment.

  So much shit played through my mind. Shit had to change if I was gonna bring a seed into this world. I couldn’t risk its life or Jazzy’s by rockin’ the way I did. But shit the mud was what I was familiar with. I found myself drowning in the waters of my experience. I had to mentally relinquish the hold on what I had become so attached to. Familiarity is a beautiful consciousness when speaking in terms of your gal or someone you love, but it’s a two-edged sword. It was also a disease! When one becomes too familiar with a certain way of life, fear of the unknown stagnates their growth.

  How can one become the master of the universe when all they know is their universe? I was gonna murk them pussy boys that tried to take me under. That’s on gang!

  ***

  ~Jazzy~

  9:30 a.m., December 16, 2018

  I woke up in the same cramped chair, I’d been sleeping in for the past month and a half. For some strange reason, something felt off. It was that feeling you get when your peace is invaded? As I tried to adjust my eyes to the gloom of the room, I was scared to death by Medusa! I screamed unconsciously and recoiled into the chair.

  “Goose! Get away from that young lady, right this minute! Nobody wants to wake up to your ugly face, dammit,” A middle-aged woman admonished. Once she stepped in front of Medusa, I saw how well kept and beautiful she was. She looked down at me studiously. “You must be, Jazzy?” she said with an extended hand.

  I was skeptical but didn’t want to be rude, so I took her hand and gave a slight nod of affirmation, that I was indeed who she said I was. For some reason, I felt uncomfortable in her presence even though, I didn’t know who she was.

  I assumed it was etched on my face because she smiled her pearly white teeth at me. “Oh, forgive me chile, in my sixty-five years of living I sometimes get ahead of myself, my name is Lovey.” She glanced over to where Assata was assumed to be at peace. “I guess you can say I am this knuckleheads mother, well—the closest to a mother he’s had since my baby sister, his mom, was killed in Florida.” She then turned and for the first time I notice the other man standing beside Medusa—well, now that I could see clearly, it was not Medusa, just a slim cat with long dreads.

  The other guy resembles Assata vaguely the differences were evident though. “These two hooligans are Assata’s brothers. The one with that hair is his eldest brother, Goose, from San Antonio and the short quiet one is Pain, he’s from here. We heard what happened to my baby when these nice people contacted me about Assata’s accident. With a weary face, she glanced over at Assata. “The car is in my name—hell all his things are in my name. So, they contacted me to tell me about the car and my baby.”

  Curiosity got the best of me. “And me, how did you know who I was, Mrs. Lovey?”

  She flashed that motherly smile again. “Baby, I know everything about my baby! He tells me everything. Beyond that baby, I know your whole family, Jazmina. Good people, she reached up and patted the side of my face tenderly. “Matter fact, your mother was over at my house not too long ago.”

  I cringed when she said that. My mom was a full-fledged addict and our relationship was strained. I despised the weakness of the woman that gave birth to me.

  I jump from the soft contact of Lovey’s hand against my face. “You must forgive her, chile. God is the judge of this life and there’s a reason, He gave you the mom that He gave you. Maybe if she wasn’t so weak in your eyes, you’d never have the strength to be so strong. Never shun small beginnings.” She leaned closer to me, her eyes explored mine. For some reason, I felt naked, literally! “Chile, you’re pregnant?” she said matter-of-factly.

  Chills ran up and down my body. ‘Is she psychic or something?’ I thought.

  As if she could read my mind she said, “Lovey’s been around for a long time, chile. When a woman lives as long as I have, she knows things!”

  Goose stepped forward, I didn’t realize how intense his eyes were until this moment, as he focused his attention on me. “Listen, I know you’ve been through a lot. I am not trying to add more to your plate, but we need to know everything that you know about my lil’ brother’s beef. Anything is helpful.” The veins in his neck expressed how he felt to see his little brother laid up with tubes down his throat.

  “I honestly don’t know what happened.” I looked at him with a look that said, ‘Come on you know your brother!’ Assata has millions of niggaz that wanted him dead, but none that I could think of that would have the nuts to try.

  Lovey reached up and grabbed a few locks of his hair to move him from in front of me. “Boy, can’t you see this chile has been through enough. Save that mess for after she’s eaten some real food and slept in her own bed,” Mrs. Lovey scolded.

  I could tell, he was not feeling that idea, but the respect he had for Lovey took prestige over his gangsta. The look in his eyes was a direct indication of our future encounters. The dude Pain had yet to speak, but his stare was intense and it made me a bit uncomfortable. Lovey walked over to Assata and rubbed her hand over his face in a mot
herly gesture. You could almost feel the love she has for him. We watched as she closed her eyes, bowed her head, and acted like she was praying, but it was something deeper than that.

  It was as if energy was being traded between her and Assata. Deeply spiritual and scary. “He’ll wake up, he’s just tired. God isn’t through with him yet,” she said opening her eyes.

  I could see the tension ease in both brothers as if her prophesy was spoken by God himself. Just as peace entered the room, Lovey looked to Pain then to Goose. “And neither is the Devil.”

  That’s when the machine, Assata was hooked up to started going crazy!

  ***

  ~Assata~

  I heard Lovey speak over me. My big mama always had a power about herself, that some would confuse for evil if they didn’t know her. But, she was the sweetest woman, I had ever known. Our family came from Opelousas, Louisiana back in the late seventies and migrated throughout Texas. Lovey was the eldest of eleven kids and her gift has been harnessed over the years so much that she scared people. Her hand against my face was electric. I could literally feel the energy she was transmitting into my limbs. I could feel my blood surging through my veins. Even though I couldn’t see my surroundings, I could almost picture the knowing looks on Pain and Goose’s faces, as well as the confusion on Jazzy’s.

  Somewhere between subconsciousness and reality, me and the old lady met in a collision of chemistry. Whatever that shit was that gave birth to a woman’s love for her child. It was like, I was walking through a thick mist of fog. Nothing else existed, but this galaxy of awareness that only she and I existed within. I stumbled blindly through the mist until the fog opened to a clear stream flowing backward. It was surrounded by still maples and wildflowers. There observing me from a small clearing sat Lovey. Her smile was radiant as she watched me.

  She stood to embrace me. “Chile, what I tell ya hard headed butt about them streets? Now look at chu—someone has you laid up in this here hospital, looking like the dead warmed over.” She held me at arm’s length and studied me.

  Her stare was powerful—she loved me—feared for me but knew that the blood in my veins was spiked with the DNA of her late husband—a fighter! A street nigga! After a long pause, she gave it to me as raw as a brick of Columbian Cocoa.

  “Assata—you must stop this mess. You’s lucky one of them bullets ain’t sent you to be with yo’ mama!” The fire that ignited in my eyes told her, her words fucked with me. Yet, with a sad smile, she continued. “You see, chile, you may outrun a bullet, but you can’t outrun God? Even though he watches over fools and babies alike. He makes no mistakes when he wants something rather it be their health, attention, or life!” Lovey turned away from me and walked over to the bank of the river. She stared down at the turbulent waters as she allowed the waves to kiss her feet. “When he talks yous better listen, chile, cause he speaks out of love and anger alike.” The frown on my face made her giggle at my stubbornness.

  I picked up a small stone and tossed it into the river, as I wondered how could a body of natural water flow backward? “Lovey, you know you raised me to fear God, but God don’t give a fuck—” The sharp look she gave reminded me of the strength in her arms when she used to work them switches on my black ass. “Sorry, Lovey, you know I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. But, Big Mama, if there is a God up there—if He knows everything before it happens. Why He let it happen? I don’t get dude, Queen.”

  My statement must have been one she anticipated, because she too turned her attention to the river, with a knowing smirk. “Baby I am not God. Some things I can rationalize, but again—I am not God, chile.” Lovey reached over and grabbed my hand, pulling me closer to the riverbank. She pointed at the water and there I saw my reflection, except, it wasn’t me in the present time, it was me as a child.

  My pulse quickened. “You see, Satta, God is like a road of love, but a highway of pain. No matter which you choose to travel first, you’ll eventually end up doing a hundred miles per hour on the other as well, because they lead to the same destination. How do you cultivate love without fighting through the pain? What would give you the motivation to survive the pain if love wouldn’t be obtained?” Lovey turned to face me. “God is a mysterious one, and religions have been created based off of so many different perspectives. Some people follow Jesus to get to Him—some follow the teachings of Muhammad—and some even follow Satan! The point is no matter who or what you believe in, it becomes God! A man without something to believe in is a man destined to fail.”

  She then turned to me with a penetrated look and ask me a question that was so simple, yet so hard to answer. She placed both hands on either side of my face. “Assata—do you care if you live or die?” Her eyes searched mine, as I asked myself the same question. For some reason, I couldn’t seem to come to a solid answer. At least not the typa answer, a nigga would give to his moms.

  I came from a place where summers were short and the winters seemed to last forever. On the conas that me and my niggaz thugged on, dying wasn’t a thought. It was simply a matter of time! A roll of the dice that a nigga really couldn’t control. Her eyes looked sad as she realized I couldn’t answer her question. Lovey nodded her head in disdain—or maybe she was having a trip down memory lane.

  She whispered, “So much like your Grandfather—he always said you’d be the lion.” With the same sad eyes, she rocked my galaxy, as she began to fade from my world. I reached for her—my heart became heavy—I needed understanding. “The lion is brave, Satta, but even the king of the jungle can be run from his pride or die trying to defend it! This young woman of yours is with child, but before you become a father, you’ll have to know the answer to my question. Since you don’t, the child will pay for the sins of his father.” By now, Lovey was barely a mist.

  I was lost, I chased an apparition of my Queen. Then something dawned on me, she said his, it’s a boy. “Please, Lovey—come back,” I raged but all I heard was the sound of the machines I was hooked up to and the doctors that rushed in.

  “Everyone out of the room. The patient is going into cardiac arrest!”

  Chapter Four

  A New Day On My Block

  ~Tomorrow~

  A month later—January 16

  The sun beamed down on the block the Kreek as we called it was just like any other hood around America. It had hoes trying to snatch a bread winna, fiends doing some of everything for that next high, and niggaz chasing that check! It didn’t matter how that dolla came, with blood on it or if it came from their moms’ purse— money was truly the root of all evil. The streets gave me the name Tomorrow, a fifteen-year-old nigga outta the ruts. I been out in this jungle my whole life. My mom’s a fiend and if I didn’t get it by crooking, my lil’ sis and brother’s stomachs would touch their back.

  I wasn’t trying to hear it, period. “Dice on me, Clack.” I heard my nigga Dino yell at the pitch-black nigga from Hic Street. I knew it was ‘bout to be some shit from the look the nigga gave homie. “Nigga, fuck the dice on you, cuz, you broke bad two shots ago? Fuck outta here with that crumb shit,” he hissed.

  That nigga must got a drum or something nearby! Willow Creek and Hickory Street are arch enemies. Villain and Piru niggaz out the Kreek and Hoovas across the park on Oak and Hic Street. Southeast Denton ain’t big at all and everybody knew every fuckin’ or everybody was related! That how is how small the city actually is. Yet, no matter the relation or size of my city, niggaz died everywhere and being disrespectful in the next niggaz playground would have yo’ thinkin’ cap leakin’.

  I guess this nigga Clack thought cause he was an O.G. Capps relative he got a pass, but maybe he ain’t heard that us young niggaz go dumb. Dino looked from the sucka to me. I know my nigga like the back of my hand. I guess Lil’ Jackie musta read the signs cause he was the only reason Clack’s bitch ass wasn’t on his way to talk to God—or the devil, right now.

  “Hold up, fam.” He puts his hands up to caution Clack. “Dice is on that you
ng nigga. You crapped out two rolls ago!”

  Clack frowned before he exploded. “Nigga, you on that homeboy shit, Lil’ Jackie cause you know this nigga people.”

  “Bitch ass nigga, you got one more time to use that pussy ass word, and it’s gonna be cuz you did that I paint this mu’fuckin’ concrete wit’ yo’ blood—Blood,” I seethed as I clutched the banga. The tension was thick as I watched playboy daring him to try my ‘G’. I may be young but niggaz knew my get down.

  “You niggaz gonna kill each other or get this money?” A feminine voice cut through the electricity.

  Reluctantly, I took my eyes off this bitch boy and set them on something way more appealing. I stared at a pair of pedicured toes on up to some butter pecan thighs. I allowed my eyes to roll over her essence until they landed on her dark hypnotic eyes. The bitch sorta resembled a thick Yara Shahidi, but she was darker with more spaz to that ass. Armani stood bow-legged, with her titties perky in a skin-tight, midriff tank top that complimented, the off-white mini skirt hugging her juicy ass hips. The belly ring glistened in the sun, as she stood with just enough jazz and attitude to take the malice outta the testosterone that was dancing in the air.

  “I don’t give a fuck who the dice is on. I’m trying to get at this money. So, you boys play nice and do rock, paper, scissors or some shit to see whose roll it is,” she smiled seductively at me then at Clack’s bitch ass.

  True to form, the pussy ass nigga Clack held his hand out to hand her the dice. Just like a wienie ass nigga, he’d rather lose his life over the dice when it came to a nigga but offer a female he never kissed, let alone fucked everything he was just willing to die, kill, and create a war behind. I laughed as Dino snatched the dice out the niggaz hand and in the same movement whipped that tool on him.