by T. N. Baker
“Tucker, hello?” Keisha repeated his name, hoping he was still on the line, but there was nothing but silence. She was pissed off, but at this point, she didn’t feel the need to call him back just to argue. Keisha knew exactly what he was going through, ’cause she was going through it too. Because of her mistakes, they couldn’t be there for each other.
CHAPTER 8
Shana arrived home late in the afternoon, exhausted and in a not so pleasant mood. Not only did she lose sleep worrying about Chasity’s craziness and Smitty’s motives, but she was up and out early searching for a new place. Out of the six apartments she viewed that day, not one of them was to her liking. To make matters worse, when she opened the door to her small basement apartment, there was no “hello,” “how you doing?” or “how’s your day?” but instead beefing.
“Yo, how the fuck you gonna go change numbers without telling a nigga? I got muthafuckas calling me for some important shit, and they can’t even get in touch with me ’cause your stupid ass done went and changed the number. Then I tried to get in touch with you on your cell, and you done changed that, too. And why you had the ringer turned off on the phone, Shana? Huh? What the fuck is up with that? I told your sneaky ass to tie up all them loose ends with whatever crab-ass niggas you was fucking with before I came the fuck home. Smitty said he tried calling me ’bout four times last night, and the phone just rang and rang. Shit, you even heard me tell the nigga to call, and you still went and did some stupid shit like that.”
Shana wasn’t in the mood to argue, which was rare, because normally she would have been all up in K.C.’s shit. She never backed down from an argument with him, even when it got physical.
K.C. lived for drama, so he made it hard for Shana to ignore him. He would go on and on until he got a response, and that’s exactly what he got. Shana listened quietly to him bitch about changing her number to her phones until her head felt like it was going to explode.
“Shut the fuck up, nigga. So what I changed the numbers? They’re my fucking numbers anyway. You only been home what, a day and a half, and already you starting to get on a bitch nerves,” she yelled.
“Oh, why am I getting on ya nerves? ’Cause a nigga fucked up, huh? Fresh out the joint and I ain’t got shit. Now, all of a sudden I’m getting on your nerves? That’s what it is, huh? But when a nigga was getting paper, it was a whole other story. Right, Sha?”
K.C. paused the game he was playing and walked over to Shana. “I remember when my shit was all good. You wouldn’t let a nigga breathe then. Now you wanna come at me with my phone, my this and my that. You got it twisted, for real. Just ’cause you laid a few dollars on a nigga’s books and bought a few funky-ass outfits for me to come home in don’t mean shit. You need to stop tripping the fuck out, acting like you forgot some of the shit I did for you. I see how a bitch change up when she think a nigga need her muthafucking ass, though. But I’ma be back on soon, real soon,” said K.C. His face was now less than an inch from hers.
“Yeah, well, I see how quick a nigga can change up from all that sweet shit you was kicking when you was locked the fuck up. So what, you don’t need a bitch no more ’cause you free?” Shana said, taking a step back.
“Yo, Sha, just shut up!” K.C. turned around, sat back on the couch, and reached for the remote.
“Whatever.” Shana went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. The argument was over, but her headache was just beginning.
“Yo, Sha, you still ain’t give me the number,” K.C. yelled out loud enough for her to hear from behind the closed door.
Shana had left the new numbers big and bold on the refrigerator for K.C. to spot before she left this morning. She figured he would notice it at some point during the day, but obviously not. Avoiding any further conflict, she wrote both numbers down on a piece of paper, opened the bedroom door, handed it to him, walked back to the room, and shut the door.
She woke up about two hours later to find K.C. in the same spot, still playing video games. On her way to the kitchen, K.C. told her the horrible news.
“Yo, Sha,” he said. “What’s that broad’s name you used to run around with all the time?”
Shana started to get a little nervous, afraid he might have heard something about Chasity.
“What broad, K.C?” she replied snobbishly.
“You know. That stuck-up, light-skinned bitch with the long hair.”
“Oh, Epiphany!” Shana said as her nerves began to settle down.
“Yeah, her.”
“What about her?”
“I heard niggas ran up in her crib and let off some lead in that ass, that’s what!”
“And who told you that?” Shana almost dropped her glass of juice.
“Yo, that’s your friend, right?” K.C. sarcastically asked.
“Yeah,” Shana responded with a sarcastic look on her face.
“A’ight then, don’t worry about who told me. Just be glad they did,” K.C. arrogantly replied.
Shana rushed back to the bedroom to call Keisha and find out if it was true, because she would be the first to hear anything about Epiphany.
“Hello?” Keisha sounded like she was sleeping.
“Hey, Keish, it’s me, Shana.”
“I know. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Epiphany’s in the hospital. She got shot.”
“I just heard that. Is she all right? What happened?” Even though they had their share of differences, Shana still cared for Epiphany more than she showed.
“I don’t really know exactly what happened, but whoever’s responsible killed Malikai too,” Keisha said.
“Wait a minute. Malikai is dead?” Shana was in shock.
“Yeah, and my guess is that black motherfucker, C-God had something to do with it,” Keisha fumed.
“You think he would—never mind.” Shana put some thought into who they were talking about. She knew damn well C-God was capable of a stunt like this. “So how’s Epiphany doing?” she asked.
“She’s alive but hooked up to all kinds of tubes. I went to see her today, and seeing her lying there broke my heart. That bastard really did my girl dirty.” Keisha began to sob.
“Well, is she gon’ be a’ight?”
“The doctors said she will,” Keisha whispered.
“Damn, I know Tucker must be taking Malikai’s murder hard.”
“Girl, hard ain’t the word. There’s so much other shit going on right now. It’s crazy.” Keisha felt so distant from Shana, so she wasn’t going to tell her everything.
“When are you going to visit Epiphany again?”
“Every day until she comes home. Why?”
“Because I wanna go with you tomorrow,” Shana answered.
“That’s cool. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Yeah, but wait. First let me give you my new numbers,” Shana said.
CHAPTER 9
Shana and Keisha had been spending a lot of time together, mainly back and forth to the hospital visiting Epiphany, which gave them a lot of time to talk. Keisha finally poured out her guts to Shana about the tape, the canceling of the wedding, and the drama with Tucker. Shana was vexed that one of those jealous bitches at the party could play Keisha like that. She wanted to help Keisha find out who was responsible.
The two of them arrived at Malikai’s funeral a little early. It was Keisha’s idea. She hoped to see Tucker and maybe get a moment of his time—not to bring up their situation, but to be an extra shoulder if he needed it. Of course it didn’t work out that way. Tucker took one look at her, turned up his face, and walked right past her. Shana noticed his look of disgust.
“Keisha, maybe now is not the best time to approach him,” she advised.
“It might not be, but I have to.” Keisha was really desperate.
“You sure? ’Cause I ain’t never seen him look at you like that before, Keisha.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen him lately. What’s the worst that could happen? He’s not g
onna make a scene and embarrass me. Not here anyway.”
“A’ight, Keish, but if he does, I got your back.”
“He won’t,” Keisha said as she slowly walked over to Tucker. This was the first time in a long she’d seen him in a suit, and although he hated her guts, she wanted nothing more than to tell him how good he looked and make sweet love to him.
“Hey, T, how you holding up?”
Tucker slightly rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’m good. Where’s my son at?” he asked.
“Is that all you got to say to me? Where’s your son at?”
“Yep,” Tucker said coldly.
“Well, he’s at home with my mother.”
“Did you make those arrangements we talked about?”
“What arrangements?”
“Keisha, I told you to book a flight somewhere for you and your family until shit calms down a bit. What, you forgot?” Tucker, forgetting where he was, began to raise his voice.
“Oh, yeah, I did that already. I just had to pay my last respects to Mali before we left.” Keisha was lying, but she knew that was what Tucker wanted to hear. She did plan on getting around to it.
“Good,” Tucker said, turning to walk away. People had started to arrive, and the self-appointed host had to go shake hands.
“T, do you plan on talking to me before I leave?” Keisha grabbed his arm and spoke softly.
“About what, Keish? There ain’t really nothing to talk about.” Tucker lowered his voice so the guests couldn’t hear him.
“Tucker, I’m sorry. I was so drunk. I didn’t mean to do it. Please just—”
“Look, Keisha, not now.” Tucker took her by the hand and pulled her into the hallway. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to talk about it. You can cry and say you’re sorry until you turn blue in the face, but it don’t mean nothing to me. Keisha, you should’ve thought about all that before you let dude run up in my pussy. You fucked up, but I just hope it was worth it.” His voice started to crack. Tucker walked away, leaving Keisha right were she stood.
Shana rushed over to comfort her. “Come on, Keish, stop crying. If he wants to act like that, then fuck him. You tried.”
Keisha couldn’t stop crying though. The thought of Tucker not wanting her anymore pained her so bad. She loved him so much, but the way he was acting toward her made her question his love for her. He could’ve at least heard her out. Yeah, she fucked up really bad, and no, it wasn’t worth it, but she was truly sorry.
“Come on, Keisha. The service is about to start.” Shana put her arms around Keisha and walked her over to the seats she was holding for them.
Flowers were everywhere, and on both ends of the platinum-colored casket stood bleeding hearts made out of fresh red and white roses. Tucker had taken care of all the arrangements.
People came out of the woodwork to say their final good-byes, and of course a few haters popped in as well.
It’s just sad that it takes a death to bring so many people together, Tucker thought as he stood near Pee and Corn, who acted as armed security at the door, just in case niggas wanted to act up. Tucker personally greeted most of the mourners that entered the funeral home. A couple of them even pulled him to the side to share different versions of hearsay from the streets about what had happened.
Pictures of Mali were all over the place. Due to his disfigurement, the casket was closed, and Tucker preferred it that way. He wanted today to be more of a remembrance than a farewell. He wanted the pictures of Malikai to remind people of the life he lived, the fun he had, and what a loving person he was. Momma D was the only one allowed a final viewing of her only son before the service started. She managed to keep her composure during the viewing and service, but she broke down at the burial.
“It’s so Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday” played softly as loved ones and friends dropped red roses onto Malikai’s casket as it was being lowered into the ground. Tucker stayed by Momma D’s side the whole time. While trying his best to stay strong for her, he was torn apart on the inside and needed Momma D to lean on just as much as she needed him.
CHAPTER 10
C-God was furious. He found out that Ness had betrayed him. The feds did run up in his spot, but no drugs were reportedly found, and only fifty G’s out of two hundred thousand, a scale, and a few minor items were confiscated. Also, word on the street was that Ness was the one responsible for Mikes’ murder, and now he was running around acting like Bishop (Tupac’s character in the movie Juice). C-God tried for days to get at his workers, but none of them returned his calls. Finally he got in touch with Reggie, one of his regular runners.
“Yo, Reg, what up with y’all niggas? Don’t nobody answer their cell phones no more? Just ’cause a nigga go on a hiatus for a week or so to get his head right, niggas fall off track and forget what’s good?” C-God said.
“Yo, C, man, niggas ain’t running with you no more. They done got down with that kid Ness. He be showing us mad love in the hood, making sure we all eat.”
“Oh, so you down with the nigga too?” C-God asked as he sniffed a long line of cocaine from the glass plate in front of him.
“Yo, I’m saying, dude do look out, and you know what I’m up against. I just wanted to give you a heads up, man, ’cause shit is real out here,” Reg said.
C-God was outraged. He jumped up and smashed the glass plate.
“You muthafuckas think I’m gonna sit back and eat shit. I’ll kill all y’all niggas. Y’all ma’fuckers gon’ do me like this, turn around and betray me, the hand that fed y’all niggas for years. Y’all some dead ma’fuckas, ya heard! Fucking dead!”
Just as C-God was about to hang up, Ness walked over and snatched the phone from Reg. “Yo, is that that bitch-ass nigga C?” he questioned. Reggie nodded his head, and Ness put the phone to his ear.
“Yo, man, save all that bullshit you talking, nigga. If your heart was as big as that fucking mouth of yours, your punk ass might not be in this situation now, would you, huh, nigga? You soft, dukes. I should’ve let that ho kill your bitch ass.
“It’s over for you now, son. You had your turn. Now I’m running this. See, I’m being a nice guy about it, letting your punk ass live. I know Mike wished I was nice enough to let him and his family live, but it be like that sometimes.” Ness laughed. “So, yo, man to bitch, I suggest you break out. Go hide up under a rock or something, ’cause ya nobody, dawg. Ya nobody ’til somebody splits that fucking wig of yours. So bring your bitch ass back around, thinking shit’s sweet, and I promise you I’ma make you famous. One!”
Talking greasy to C-God like that got Ness’s adrenaline pumping. He was hyped and ready for whatever came his way.
C-God was fuming. Normally he’d call Mike to kill a nigga that crossed him the way Ness had, but Mike was gone. Everyone on his team was gone. There was nothing else for him to do but get skidded. Locked up in his hotel room, C-God sniffed so much coke his noise started to bleed.
He only had access to about five grand, and that was gonna have to hold him down until he came up with a plan. He knew it would be hard to go up against those niggas as a one-man band.
Another problem was the feds. They were hot on his trail, so C-God decided the best thing for him to do was skip town and lay low for a while. Team or no team, they hadn’t heard the last from Corey Hinderson.
CHAPTER 11
As she walked down what appeared to be a very long tunnel, Epiphany heard a voice calling her name. It was coming from behind her. The voice was male and sounded familiar. Afraid, she paused for a moment as the voice continued to call out to her. It was as if they were in some sort of danger.
Epiphany hesitantly turned around. Something inside of her forced her to follow the voice. As she followed the voice, she could see a beaming ray of light, and the further she walked, the brighter the light got. The light was her guide. Suddenly, she could see images of her life posted up on the tunnel’s walls. The good, the bad, and the ugly had all been caught on film. Sh
e felt like she was trapped in a projection room that featured The Life and Times of Epiphany Janee Wright.
There were moments she’d spent as a child with her parents, moments with friends, and even X-rated moments she’d shared with many men, including her uncle, who had molested her.
This is some weird shit, Epiphany thought , but being vain, she found this experience to be fascinating, watching her life, her memories, and her personal moments. All of it, from adolescence to adulthood, surrounded her. This was either her journey to heaven or hell, the weighing of her good deeds and her sins.
As she continued down the long tunnel, the sound of her name became louder. When she finally reached the end, she saw Malikai smiling at her. He was dressed in an all-white suit, with a pimp daddy hat slightly cocked to the side. He looked like a gift heaven sent to her. He had been calling out to her all along.
Once she approached him, no words were exchanged, and although he was smiling, she could see that there was some sadness in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, as if he would never see her again. His body temperature was so cold. Epiphany tried to speak to him, but her words could not escape her mouth. She felt numb.
Suddenly, darkness filled the hall. Everything had faded right before her eyes—Malikai, the images, and the light. Epiphany stood alone at the end of the tunnel. Malikai had just saved her from eternal darkness, and it was time for her to go home.
Epiphany’s Mom noticed slight movement from Epiphany for the first time. Her eyelids were shut, but her eyeballs moved as if she was trying to open them.
“It’s been two weeks. Wake up out of that misery, Epee,” her mom whispered as she reached for her daughter’s hand. “I know you’re a fighter. Your father knows you’re a fighter. Your friends know, and even these doctors know. So fight, baby. Make your way back. You’re too strong to be lying up in this damn hospital bed like this. Do you hear me?”
