Memoirs of an Accidental Hustler

by J. M. Benjamin

  I went and did as Mu said. This was the biggest flip we had ever made so I was hoping that everything would go right. When Mu left I went back over to Ant’s crib to let Mal know how much we had flipped and to split the $120 in singles with him; then we went back out to try to get rid of the rest of the work. By the time Mu got back we had sold out, making an even $500 off of them, taking the count back up to three grand. I tried to catch up on some sleep before he got there, but Trina was horny so I had to give her some because she had been more than patient and understanding.

  “Yo, y’all should see a nice profit off this flip right here,” Mu told me, “’cause I got a extra half ounce. When you and Trina chop this up, chop an ounce at a time so you can see how many clips you’re getting off each one.”

  He set the Ziploc on the scale and it weighed 173.6. Take away four and a half grams for the bag and it would come to 168 grams, which is six ounces to a T. Mu rocked it up as usual and me and Trina went to work. I had gotten better at both cutting and bottling, but still not close to Trina or nowhere near Mu. The first ounce I bottled up I made thirteen and a half clips, which wasn’t bad because I was supposed to make a little over fourteen or more like Trina was. I only chopped up two and let her do the other four.

  It came to ninety-three clips at the end. I remember thinking that was a lot of bottles. When I told Kamal how many we had he was just as amped as I was.

  “Yo, if we make at least six grand off these sixty-three clips we’ll be close to double digits on the G tip,” he said.

  “Yeah, but we still gotta spend money on the stuff we need for the crib when Mu gets it, so we really won’t be there until our next flip,” I reminded him. But still, he was right; we were definitely off to a good start.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  December 1 was going to be an important day for Mal and me. Not only would it be a day where we would make a lot of dough, but it would also be the day we could move into our one-bedroom apartment Mu had gotten for us. He took us by there so he could show us the spot. The landlord lived across the street from it, so she was there to let us in to look around.

  The crib was over what used to be a little candy store and arcade up the street and around the corner from the projects we were from on Liberty Street. The store was abandoned but there were two apartments upstairs for rent. We remembered when it was open because we used to buy penny candies and play video games; but we never noticed it had an apartment on top. The good thing was that it was up around the corner from the block, so we were within walking distance.

  When we climbed up the steps there was another door. Ms. Rodriquez unlocked it and there was another set of steps at the top. As soon as she turned to the left there was a bathroom and when you walked past that and turn to the right there was a little kitchen. There was a little living room area and a bedroom in the back. It was just what we needed. Mal and I both liked it instantly.

  “So what do you think?” Mu asked us.

  “Yeah, it’s cool. We like it,” I said for both of us.

  “Mal, do what you think?” Mu asked.

  Mal looked at him and said, “Yeah, this’ll work right here.”

  “Good enough then,” Mu said.

  By the time the first of the month came, Mal and I had accomplished a lot. We had copped two full-sized beds with nightstands and dressers along with a stereo system for the bedroom. We had a pullout couch and a coffee table for the living room, and a kitchen table with chairs since it already came with a refrigerator. Just for all that alone we spent $1,100, which was nothing because we already sold thirty-something clips.

  Trina and Reecie went shopping for us to get us things we needed for the place that men wouldn’t think about like sheets, blankets, pillows, kitchen products, and bathroom products, stuff like that. The deliveries were scheduled to be there at eleven in the morning. Trina and Reecie agreed to meet them there and hook everything up for us and have it set by the time we got there, so we could get that “Mother’s Day” money.

  It was one o’clock in the morning when Mal and I decided to call it a day. Both he and I broke another record for the night, and it was a good feeling. The first was definitely a good day. Reecie had stopped by earlier and told us how nice the place looked, and how Trina said she was going to stay there and wait for me to come in.

  We didn’t check the crib out until morning because Trina was asleep when we came in. To say they had hooked the spot up would be an understatement, because they worked a miracle. It didn’t even look like the same place. They organized everything to a T. They had made the beds and put our clothes away. They put little paintings they had bought up in the living room. They had a tablecloth on the table with napkins, and salt and pepper along with other kitchen accessories. The fridge was stocked with all types of foods Trina knew I ate. The bathroom was piped out in dark blue and light blue. I knew Trina did the bathroom because, first, she knew my favorite color was blue and, secondly, I saw her favorite color toothbrush in there.

  I remember thinking, This must be what it feels like to be a man out on your own.

  Me and Mal were in the kitchen eating cereal and counting up when Trina walked in with just a T-shirt and panties on. She kissed me on the cheek.

  “Girl! Go put some clothes on,” I told her.

  “What? Why? Ain’t nobody here but you, me, and Kamal,” she protested.

  I didn’t know why it bothered me because Kamal was my brother, but it did. “You heard what I said,” I told her again, shooting her a look of stone. She must’ve caught it because she stormed out of the kitchen.

  “Yeah, that’s wifey right there,” Mal said.

  “Get outta here,” I denied.

  “Nigga, that’s your girl, that’s why you actin’ like that. I don’t even hear you talk about Lisa no more like you used to.”

  “It ain’t about being my girl; it’s about respect,” I said. “And I still be talking to Lisa, but you know a lot of stuff been goin’ on and she wouldn’t understand right now. She doesn’t come from our world, you know that,” I retorted.

  “Yo, kid, you been up under Mu too long, because you startin’ to sound like him,” Mal laughed. I laughed with him.

  “Is this better?” Trina asked, coming back in with a pair of my sweatpants on and one of my Dallas Cowboys jerseys on.

  Mal and I started laughing even harder. After all, it was much needed.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  “Trina, where that money at?” I asked her, getting the last seven clips we had. Mal and I had counted up $2,120 back at the house, so like usual we took the $120, split it, and put the two Gs up.

  “Oh, you don’t trust me with your money now that you got your own place?” she spat.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, wondering where the statement had come from.

  “You heard me,” she snapped back with attitude.

  “First of all, I don’t owe you no explanation about mine,” I started out saying. I was in no mood for the drama. “If I tell you to give me something that belongs to me, don’t question me. But since you made that dumb statement that just came out ya mouth, I’m gonna tell you why I’m really takin’ the money: ’cause I don’t want my dough where my damn product is at, that’s why! If they run up in here and raid, how the hell am I gonna be of any help if they find my paper, huh!” I stated rather than asked.

  “You right, baby,” she said, half crying. “I didn’t mean to question you like that. It’s just that now that you got ya own place and making money, these tricks are gonna be sweatin’ you and Mal,” she confessed.

  “That’s what this is all about?” I asked. I shook my head. “I don’t care about none of those chicks out there, and can’t no chick play me like that. I’m tryin’ to get my dough up, and keep a roof over my head. I ain’t got time for all of that. Besides that, I know who was there when I didn’t have nothin’, and I’m not gonna ever forget that, so stop worrying about nothin’.”

&
nbsp; She burst into tears then threw her arms around me. “I love you, Kamil.”

  “I love you too,” I said, surprisingly.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  It was funny how things could change in a matter of months in the game. Here it was, June of ’89, about to be summer, and Mal and I were talking about going to cop whips. Just six months ago, we had gotten thrown out of our grandma’s crib and had to move out on our own. Now here we had thirty Gs put up and a nice two-bedroom apartment decked out.

  We were doing our thing for a fifteen- and sixteen-year-old. Ice had gotten out about two months ago on bail by working something out with Clyde, while Shareef had nine more months to do in a program. Ice told us that was all the money he and Shareef had when the crib had gotten raided.

  Ant and Trevor were still getting it. They now had matching Jettas hooked up. Ant’s was white with a burgundy top and Trevor’s was white with a blue top. They spent a lot of money on cars and jewelry. They told us they had paid $5,500 apiece for the cars, but spent six Gs apiece just hooking them up, and that their gold combined cost four Gs.

  Mal and I were still the same. We weren’t really into spending as freely as Ant and Trevor were. Despite not hearing from or seeing our moms, we were still hopeful that she’d change her mind, speak to us again, and then let us move her, our grandmother, and sisters out of the hood. Because we had the money and it didn’t hurt our pockets, Mal and I did cop matching Big Daddy Kane flat links with the Nefertiti heads on them, which ran us $1,300 apiece, but other than that we spent our money on gear and the crib.

  As promised, I made sure Trina always had dough to get her hair and nails done and to shop. Joyce Leslie and the mall became her second homes. She had been putting that money to good use because she stayed super fly. Lisa still didn’t know what I did. I told her that Mal and I moved in with another relative. I had been trying to find the right time to tell her but there never seemed to be one.

  Me, Mal, Ant, and Trevor all hung out where all the other dealers hung from all over. We were hitting spots like the Amboy movie theatre, the skating rink out in Teaneck, Echo Lanes bowling alley, the Jamaican club out our way, and all the rap shows. Normally we shot up to the diner back in town after the out-of-town spots closed. I couldn’t help but remember how we used to walk up there when we were younger after a party at the Neighborhood House and see all the fly whips, the phattest clothes, and the prettiest chicks, and be amazed; but now to be amid the crowd and a part of the game was a totally different experience.

  Out of all the places I liked going, the Jamaican club was my favorite. Even though it was run by a West Indian woman and her son, and was supposed to be full of West Indians, the projects were always the deepest. It was like our own private hangout on the weekend. From watching the Jamaican kids up in there I learned how to whine and I would add my own moves to it when I was out on the dance floor with a chick. I got turned out on drinking Heinekens and Canei; I liked how they made me feel.

  You would’ve thought Ant and Trevor were Rastas by how much weed they smoked and Guinness they drank. I remember taking pictures was one of our highlights in the club.

  “Ay yo, Pop, let me get these flicks right quick,” Mal said to the old cameraman everybody referred to as Pop. They said he had been taking pictures at clubs and events for over twenty years.

  Mal and I had just finished taking a few flicks with some project heads and females with sexy outfits on and then just us, when a voice echoed out of the crowd of people waiting for their turn.

  Me and Mal both looked to see who the voice belonged to. Standing there were two nice-looking chicks with sexy grins plastered on their faces. One was brown-skinned with big breasts and thick hips; the other one was light-skinned and a little shorter with nice breasts and a butt to match. They both had on tight jeans, button-up designer shirts, and Reebok classics. What stood out the most though were the big earrings they sported and the long chains they rocked around their necks.

  “Yeah, y’all can get in,” Mal said, answering their request from the sidelines.

  I was into redbones and Mal always said light-skinned girls were problems, but somehow he wound up with the light-skinned one and I was with the tall, brown-skinned one. Good thing I had my 40 Below Timberland boots on, or else she would’ve made me look like a midget. We wound up taking two more flicks, gave them one with us, and kept one.

  “Y’all from the projects, right?” the brown-skinned one said as we moved out of the way so the rest of onlookers could take their flicks.

  “Yeah. How you know that?” I asked.

  “’Cause we be seeing y’all out there when we be ridin’ through, wondering who were them two cute guys who be dressin’ alike all the time?” she said.

  Me and Mal just started smiling. “I’m Kamil.” I extended my hand. Kamal followed up with his name.

  “I’m Ke Ke, and this is my cousin Shanda,” the brown-skinned one told us. “Y’all twins?” they asked.

  “Nah, we’re just brothers, a year apart,” Mal answered.

  “How old are you?” she asked me.

  I knew she was older than me, I just didn’t know by how much, so I boosted my age up by two years and said that I was seventeen, making Mal automatically eighteen. “How old are you?” I asked her.

  “I’m twenty and my cousin is eighteen,” she said. “Y’all goin’ to the diner after this?” she asked us.

  “Yeah,” we said in unison.

  “All right, then we’ll see y’all up there.” Then they walked off, waving.

  Mal and I just looked at each other. We didn’t have to say it to know what the other was thinking because we both thought the same. People were starting to notice us.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  The diner was packed. Some of the flyest whips around were there. Hustlers and chicks were everywhere. Guys were blasting their car systems either battling or trying to impress the chicks. Other guys were playing dice, something I had become interested in, and the rest of them were either trying to push up on females to take them home or to the hotel or just straight fronting hard because they had a phat ride, a phat chain, and a pocket full of dough. We were just chilling.

  When we got out of Ant and Trevor’s car, we saw Shanda and Ke Ke kicking it with some kids from Third, so we just went over to Red Tower and ordered something to eat. Somehow, in the midst of their talking they must’ve seen us because Shanda came in and spoke before I peeped her handing Mal a piece of paper and telling him to make sure we called. We got our food and went and leaned on Ant’s car, eating. Out of nowhere, people began to scatter. The sound of gunshots invaded the air.

  Someone started shooting. Everybody started jumping in their whips peeling out. We were all used to that, so gunshots didn’t even faze us anymore; it was just another part of the game. I hopped in Shareef’s ride while Mal hopped in Trevor’s, and we called it a night.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  “Kamil, your sister Monique came by here today looking for y’all,” Trina told me when I walked through the door.

  I immediately became alarmed. “What did she say?” I asked.

  “She told me to tell you as soon as I see you to call your grandmother house before your mother gets in.”

  “Did she say something happened?” I asked, thinking she was hiding something from me.

  “She didn’t tell me anything besides to tell you or Mal to call, and I gave her the number to y’all place. She didn’t even know you weren’t staying here anymore.”

  I took the number from Trina and wasted no time dialing it.

  “Hello?” I heard my grandmother’s voice.

  “Grandma, it’s me,” I said. It had been almost eight months since I’d seen or heard from any of them.

  “Thank you, Jesus, it’s my baby! Kamil, how’s everything, suga’? Are you all right? Are you eating? Where are you?” my grams bombarded me.

  “I’m all right, Grandma, everything’s good. How about you?” I r
eplied with a smile.

  “I’m blessed. I been praying that the Lord watch over you and your brother in them streets. I miss y’all so much.”

  “I miss you too, Grandma.” My chest began to ache. Talking to my grandmother took me back to the night my mother had put us out. I could still see the hurt in my grandmother’s eyes.

  “Where’s Kamal?” she asked.

  “He’s at the house,” I told her.

  “What house?” she wanted to know.

  “Mal and I got our own place now, Grandma,” I said.

  “Your own place? Y’all ain’t old enough to be taking care of yourselves, let alone have your own place,” she said back. “What, y’all living with some little fast-tail girls?”

  I laughed. “Nah, Grandma, just me and Mal. We’ve been taking care of ourselves going on nine months now,” I said proudly.

  “Lord! Help me, Jesus, please deliver my babies from evil!” she shouted, quoting a scripture from the Bible.

  “Grandma, go ’head with all that. I told you we’re all right. How’s my moms doing?”

  “Sister is still Sister. She don’t even want to bring up that night, and she don’t even mention y’all anymore, but I know she’s hurting and regret what she done. I know my child.”

  It hurt me just listening to my grandmother speak about it. “Me and Mal still love her, though,” I told my grandmother. “How’s everything with Jasmine?”

  “Oh, she’s getting so big and grown, you should see her.”

  “What’s going on with Monique?”

  My grandmother paused and took a deep breath. Right then and there, I knew something up.