Baddest Apple

by Nisa Santiago

  “It’s gross, Apple. The journalist could hardly hold her composure as she reported that shit. They left his body like the game Operation. They removed every damn thing. All his fingers, toes, tongue, teeth, genitals, and even his eyeballs.”

  “Got fuckin’ damn! I told that stupid, hardheaded muthafucka this would happen!”

  “There’s more,” Cartier said. “The reporter said his wife was found wandering the streets near her home naked.”

  “Kola?” Apple was confused. “I thought she was locked up.”

  “Nope. She’s being held in a psych ward on a seventy-two-hour hold. Apparently, she found his body. That shit must have hit her hard.”

  “Ain’t this some shit?”

  “You know I’d be there for you and Kola, but right now I’m going through my own shit. My house ain’t in order so I gotta send love from Brooklyn.”

  “You don’t even have to explain. Hold yours down and holla if you need me. One.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cartier ended the call. Apple wanted to tell Cartier about Junior and Sophia, but now wasn’t the time. Her friend was going through some shit too, so why compound matters? Apple lingered in her bed, still feeling indifferent with a little remorse for Kamel. He was a dead man walking. If it wasn’t Eduardo, then she would see him dead for trying to murder her over his sidepiece. Melinda’s hot box had her brother-in-law fucked up. He forgot who he held allegiance to. But life went on. People lived and they died. She had more pressing matters about the land of the living. It was now the perfect time to call Eduardo. Apple needed to know that her sister would be safe.

  He answered, “Cómo está?”

  “What have you done?”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Apple.”

  “Then you know what I’ve done! That piece of shit, that puta—I wish I could resurrect him so he could be killed again. And you!”

  Apple gasped. “Me?”

  “You don’t call to send your condolences, you call in support of that murderer. You take his side over mine? After everything that I’ve done for you and your sister, you treat me this way?”

  Apple knew he still had anger and rage to dole out, and she didn’t plan to be on the receiving end of his grief. “I am calling to give you my condolences, and for the record, I just got your telephone number. You know you and I aren’t on speaking terms, and it should go without saying, I loved Junior and Sophia just as much as you did.”

  “Everyone loved them. Kamel, Kola, you, but they are still dead. My question to you is why is Peaches still alive and my son and daughter are not?”

  Those words were Apple’s worst nightmare. “Are you threatening her?”

  “It’s a legitimate question. Peaches lived there, no? If it were carbon monoxide as Kamel said and not an execution then Peaches would be dead too, sí?”

  “Eduardo, don’t make this about my daughter. She’s innocent in all of this. She wasn’t there because she was with me, her mother. Kola and I had already started to transition her to living with me full time. It’s that simple; no conspiracy. And if you’re thinking anything sinister about my sister, she had nothing to do with Kamel’s negligence. The police here did a full investigation, and it was all his fault. Only his fault. He was charged with negligent homicide. He was out on bail awaiting trial.”

  Eduardo snorted. This was news he hadn’t known. “Well, they cannot try him now. He is dead.”

  His sarcasm didn’t go over Apple’s head. She needed to get through to him before the conversation ended. “Eduardo, I didn’t call you to defend Kamel. Fuck ’im. I called to know why you would do him like that and leave him for my sister to find? She just lost her children—”

  “My children!” he screamed.

  Apple was navigating through the torrential, emotional territory. She tried to pull at his emotional strings. “Eduardo, Kola was admitted to a psych ward. They’re holding her for three days. I don’t think there’s much more she can take.”

  “What do I care? She’s always been cra-zy,” he concluded. The way he rolled his tongue when he said crazy almost made her chuckle. “Everybody’s got to pay!”

  “Don’t toss threats!”

  “It’s no threat,” Eduardo said assuredly. “I am a man of my word.”

  “Eduardo, both Kola and Peaches love you! I’m begging you, don’t do this.”

  “You think I am a monster? Peaches is my daughter. She is safe.”

  “Your daughter?”

  “Sí, yes, of course. I am her Poppo. I was her father before you were her mother. Do not forget that, Apple. Because of me, my daughter isn’t wasting away in Mexico.”

  Apple thought, Why argue? This man is rotting away in a Colombian prison. “What about Kola?”

  “Send her to me.”

  “Come again?”

  “Kola needs to be here with me, in Colombia. This is where she belongs. I only allowed her to go to the United States to watch over Eduardo and Sophia. They are no longer alive, so she must fulfill her original duties as head of my household. She will be treated like royalty, so this is far better than a death sentence.”

  “You know I can’t make Kola do anything.”

  “Oh, well, then she dies,” he said. “And, Apple, Miguel will get in touch with you so he could make arrangements to have my children exhumed and flown here. Kamel wouldn’t give up where they were buried. They need to rest in peace on their native land, on my estate.”

  “Kamel wouldn’t tell me either! I’ve been begging him so that Peaches could say her goodbyes.”

  “You better find out, or so help me, I will kill everybody! Do you fuckin’ understand, puta? Find my niños!”

  Queenie had buried two more of her men, Stone and Nerd, both viciously struck down by her nemesis, Apple. She was quickly losing the war she had waged and needed to go to her many religions for assistance in conquering this battle, because right now she felt like a confederate soldier in a war they couldn’t win.

  At her altar in her living room, she bent down on her knees and prayed for vengeance. Queenie lit a blue candle for clarity, a black candle for protection, and a white candle for victory over her enemies. She sprinkled ginger, which helped make her words that much more powerful, and chanted. Anecdotal phrases were pieced together as she spewed her hatred toward Apple as a testimony to the spirits that would assist her. After a long prayer session, Queenie’s body quaked, and she stood up and jerked rapidly, then twirled around in circles before ultimately falling out flat on her floor. She had felt a surge of dark energy take over her body so powerful the hair on her arms stood up, and she knew her prayers were answered.

  Apple was a dead bitch.

  The fist smashing upside her head brought Apple down on one knee. Her hand went up instantly to address the throbbing pain when she was met with another fierce blow to her cheek. The pain coursing throughout her body was almost debilitating as she tried to recover. Dazed, Apple swung wildly into the air, and her fists missed their intended target. She locked eyes with an unknown assailant—a female—short, stocky, and overflowing with rage. The sneak attack had momentarily knocked Apple off her A-game.

  When the woman charged her again, Apple crouched low, and with one arm under the female’s vagina and the other around her neck, she lifted her adversary up and body-slammed her on to the ground. The girl popped back up like a jack-in-the-box toy and charged at her again. Apple punched the female repeatedly in the face until her hands were bloody. They were in the project’s courtyard, and her men patrolling the rooftop had peeped the scuffle and were already coming to their boss’s defense.

  Apple swung the woman around by her hair and tossed her across the ground. Once again, she sprang up, refusing to stay down.

  When she screamed, “You better give me my fuckin’ money ’fore I kill you, bitch!” Apple a
dded a name to the face. Pilar had given up the information regarding Kola and wanted what was promised to her. When she screamed her threat, Pilar had meant every word. Two-hundred-thousand dollars was worth going to jail over, but was it worth dying for? Once Apple realized this shit could take all day, she pulled out her 9mm and squeezed.

  Bak!

  The bullet hit its intended target, which was Pilar’s leg. Apple wasn’t trying to kill her.

  Bak!

  She hit her other leg, and Pilar fell to the ground, grabbing her ankle and calf and screaming in pain.

  Apple leaned down and said, “Bitch, if you ever put your fuckin’ hands on me again, you’re dead. If you ever utter my name again, your family’s dead. If you ever even glance my way, both you and your family are dead. Choose your next actions wisely!” Apple grabbed the back of Pilar’s collar and dragged her across the ground, through patches of grass, over broken glass, cigarette butts, and dog urine until she arrived at the curb where she was left like trash.

  Apple’s soldiers, including her two lieutenants, came barreling out of the building like army troops invading enemy territory. Guns were drawn, and the adrenaline was high as they flooded the courtyard, their presence even intimidating members of the Lincoln Ova Everything gang, who once had control over Lincoln Houses. Apple’s henchmen formed a protective barrier around their boss and the bleeding Pilar, not knowing how to react. Apple placed her pistol back in her waistband and said, “I’m good. Y’all go back to your posts.”

  As everyone walked back to take their respective positions, Apple made eye contact with a familiar face. She was the female Tokyo had sliced up with her razor. She, too, felt Apple owed her promised money, and until that very moment, she had entertained confronting Apple with her fists. Her grandiose idea was quickly snuffed out as the young girl decided that she could very well live with a checkered face, as long as she lived.

  Walking back to the building, Apple’s senses were heightened. She had come to Lincoln Houses for a specific reason. She needed to speak to Tokyo. Apple was a few steps from entering the building when something pulled her attention. She looked over her shoulder and saw a figure, a male dressed in a black sweatsuit. His hoodie was pulled protectively over his face, and she couldn’t make out his features. He had watched everything unfold. Had the figure lingered longer, she would have sent Hood and IG over to check him. But he quickly exited toward the avenue, so she moved on.

  Apple gave Peaches the biggest hug she could and kissed her face repeatedly until her daughter begged her to stop. “Stop it, Mommy,” Peaches said through giggles, trying to push Apple away.

  “Make me,” she said and picked her up in a bear hug. Peaches wrapped her legs around her mother’s waist, and her arms were clasped tightly around Apple’s neck. Apple walked Peaches to a back room where two of Tokyo’s younger cousins were playing Minecraft. The children were building their 3D world and were only interrupted when Apple came.

  “You having a good time?” Apple asked her daughter.

  She nodded her approval of how her morning was unfolding and sat back down to help her fellow teammates gather resources and explore.

  Apple left Peaches and went back to have a quick chat with Tokyo in her bedroom, who was trying on outfits for a date she had tonight. She only wore catsuits, so it was more about picking the right accessories to make her stand out. Since Tokyo’s rise in the drug game, her popularity amongst the young hustlers had multiplied. She was the new it-girl, and all the little niggas wanted to smash. Tokyo paused when her boss walked in. She smiled wide.

  Apple was blunt. “Look, you’re dead weight on my team, so you’re out.”

  The words floored Tokyo and her eyes quickly filled with tears. She tried to hold them back, but she couldn’t. The tears flowed fast and heavy, and her body reacted; her chest heaved up and down in dramatic fashion. Tokyo knew this was about the shootout she hadn’t participated in. The moment the battle started, she bitched up, ran, and left her team one man down.

  “I’m . . . sorry,” she choked out. “I . . . can do much better next time.”

  Tokyo looked pitiful, but the tears would not sway Apple’s decision. She had a lot on her plate with buttoning up her beef with L.E.S. Crips, The Huntsman killing her workers, Kola in the psych ward, Kamel’s murder, and now Eduardo’s threat. Apple didn’t want to be the one to tell Eduardo that his children were in Potter’s Field, and she knew there wasn’t any way her sister was going to willingly get on a flight to live the rest of her life under Eduardo’s thumb in Colombia, where her days would be filled by visiting him in jail.

  Apple felt protective over Tokyo, and that wasn’t good. She couldn’t add the young girl to her list of things to fret over. Tokyo could handle herself in hand-to-hand combat. She was a street chick who knew how to survive, but that was a far cry from drug distribution, murder, and intense shootouts. Tokyo wasn’t about that life, and Apple no longer wanted to indoctrinate her to thrive on that level. You either had it, or you didn’t.

  “You know how I feel about these displays of emotion, Tokyo,” Apple snapped. “It feels awkward for me to see you like this. You’re like a little sis”—Apple stopped short because that wasn’t true. No one could ever feel like or replace her little sister, Nichols. “You’re like family, and I want you safe. I have a job for you if you want it where you can continue to earn a salary. Not what you’re making now, but it’s decent.”

  Tokyo wiped her tears. “What job? I’ll do anything.”

  Her need to please Apple wasn’t flattering. It was vexing. Apple was brimming with anger from Eduardo’s threats, Kola’s predicament, and getting punched in the head just a short while ago, so her temper was on ten. “Have some respect, Tokyo. If you’d do anything for money, then that makes you my enemy. It means you can be bought!”

  Tokyo’s eyes widened. “I would never hurt you! For any amount of money and that’s on my life. You’ve done more for me than my own mother, and I’ll never forget that. I love you, Apple, and would die for you.”

  Apple gave her a break. She nodded. “Peaches and I are moving into a three-bedroom. The extra bedroom won’t be occupied by the intended party, so I wanted to know if you wanted a job as my live-in nanny and assistant. You could watch Peaches there while I handle business, and that way I’d know that my baby was safe.”

  Tokyo thought she had hit the lottery. She would live with her idol, Apple, in a fancy apartment and get paid to watch Peaches? That didn’t feel like a job because she was manageable. The little girl was low maintenance. Tokyo squealed her delight and then hugged Apple before being pushed off.

  Apple scribbled on a piece of paper and pulled out thirty grand. “Here’s the address. The apartment is empty. I want you to go food shopping, stop by Cellini’s and order you and Peaches bedroom sets and televisions. Her favorite color is purple. If you get there now, they said they can have the furniture delivered by three this afternoon. Contact the cable company and get all that shit set up. I probably won’t go there tonight. I have a lot to take care of and will spend the night at my apartment.” Apple handed her the keys, and Tokyo’s smile faded.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I have a date tonight,” Tokyo explained.

  “Cancel it.”

  Apple made the unscheduled visit to Dannemora so she could receive counsel from Corey. They had less than an hour left for visiting hours when she arrived. Corey walked out quickly; his rushed steps made Apple feel important. To her, his urgency embodied unspoken feelings; he cared about her wellbeing.

  Corey dragged his chair from under the table, and it made a screeching sound before he sat down. The OG stared at the ingénue and asked, “What’s up, young blood?”

  “I have an issue.”

  “Lower Eastside more formidable than you anticipated?”

  “Queenie?” Apple sucked her teeth. “She’
s not even in the top five of past opponents.”

  “Then what’s this about?”

  Apple sat silently for a few seconds, weighing her situation, and pulled out her most pressing dilemmas. She said, “Have you seen coverage on The Huntsman?”

  “Yeah, the vigilante. He and I started terrorizing our neighborhoods around the same time. Evidently, he’s had more success than me.”

  Apple’s ears perked up. “You know who he is?”

  “Wouldn’t that be the million-dollar answer?” Corey chuckled. “Nah, young blood. When I started pushing dope through Harlem, as the crack epidemic grew, The Huntsman made his first kill.” Corey slowly shook his head because the fact that someone had murdered over two-dozen people, all newsworthy events, and not been caught was astounding. Everyone was impressed.

  “Well, he’s still killing, and now it’s spilling into my business. Two of my block huggers were murdered, and if he targets more, it’ll be that much more difficult to find young soldiers to push my products. I’ve put a bounty on his head, but nothing.”

  Corey smirked. “What do you want me to say?”

  “How can I catch him?”

  “You can’t,” Corey explained. “Someone like The Huntsman knew from the gate what my son learned. Murder is to be done alone. This man doesn’t have anyone that can snitch on him, give him up for reward money, or turn him in for moral reasons because he’s a ghost. He will only get caught if he’s sloppy, and that he is not. He can probably kill in his sleep. He’s seasoned, older, and wiser and most likely has great patience. Let it go and be glad you’re not on his radar.”

  Apple agreed he was a ghost. She then opened up and explained the Kamel, Kola, and Eduardo situation in great detail—the children dying from carbon monoxide poisoning, Kamel’s dismemberment, Kola’s nude catwalk, and finally Eduardo’s threats. Corey listened, filtering each fact through his lens of wisdom.

  “Miguel has to die in the same fashion as Kamel. You need to send a message to Eduardo and the streets that you’re not to be fucked with.”