Another Rumble

by Skyy, Rayven

  “Okay nigger, have it your way.

  My two escorts led me out of the bedroom and then down the stairs. “Sit down on the bottom step.” I did what he said and sat down. Two more police officers walked in the front door followed by an older white man who was dressed in plainclothes. One of the police officers that tackled me upstairs was standing in front of me, and the other one went back upstairs. In all, I counted at least twelve boys in blue. And oh, I forgot to mention the one dressed in plain clothes was none other than Detective Lundy. This is not good y’all.

  “So we meet again,” the detective said. He held what looked like the warrant up to my face. It turned my head to the wall.

  I could hear drawers opening and closing, closet doors slamming, and glass breaking. Blonde hair and blue eyes stayed true to his word, because they were indeed fucking the place up. I looked back at Detective Lundy and followed his eyes to see what had captured his attention. I couldn’t do nothing but shake my head. I turned back around when I saw what the police officer had in his hand. I didn’t even give the detective a chance to say no slick shit to me either. I looked up at him and simply said, “Lawyer.”

  Fuck Em’!

  How about those Redskins? I’m just fucking with you. I’m a black and yellow Steelers fan, all day long. I just needed something to break the ice. Allow me to formally introduce myself. The name is Shawn Norwood, and I may be known to some of you as Gee, or maybe even Gremlin. Pardon me while I take a bow. You don’t like that shit do you? I know you feel some kind of way about me, but check this out, fuck you and them niggas! Yeah, I said it.

  I mean shit, I created one of the biggest lies ever told to man so that Milk would take Byrd out since George W. Bush looked into that camera and told the world that Sadaam Hussein was producing weapons of mass destruction. It took me damn near eight years to orchestrate that shit, and when it was all said and done these two fuck boys rolled their damn sleeves up to duke it out behind a bitch. Fuck em’ I say. Fuck em’!

  Once I crossed the Virginia state line, I stopped at a minor care emergency room to get my hand looked at. Since the bullet only grazed me it

  didn’t look like a gunshot wound. I told the doctor who examined me that I burnt myself lighting fireworks. After they stitched me up I was back on the road. By the time I got back to Florida the next day the streets were gossiping. Big Byrd had passed away in his sleep. Niggas immediately sprung into action trying to lay claim to the throne that had just been vacated, but I quickly shut all that shit down.

  When Milk robbed Byrd for his last re-up, me and Byrd drove all night to New York to get some more work. Up until then, I never knew who Byrd’s connect was. Byrd put me on to Chino as a point of contact, so now I am able to get the same good, raw, uncut dope that Byrd was known and famous for. I had to wet a few niggas up who were having a problem with their new Commander in Chief, and I am sure there will be more to follow, but it’s nothing that a little behavior modification can’t fix. I’m just glad I went with my first mind and dropped that dime when I did. I always have a plan B with everything I do. I planted the dope and guns in Byrd’s crib months ago just in case he ever figured out that the puppet master behind all the string pulling was none other than yours truly.

  As far Milk goes, that nigga is the least of my worries. The last update I received on him was that he was making his way back to life. If nothing else, I give that nigga a round of applause because he took them bullets like a Gee. Get it? Like a Gee. I crack myself up, but it serves his ass right for shortening my name without my permission. I mean, where is the respect? But I forgive him. Milk had no clue that he was fucking with not only a client, but the President of the Hustler’s Hall of Fame club. That mothafucka’ would probably shit on himself if he ever found out that this Gee played his ass like a fiddle. Besides, the liaison I have between us now will keep me informed and up to date on current events as far as Milk is concerned. The only way he would be able to ever tie anything back to me is if him and Byrd sat down and talked about how good Sabrina’s pussy is and then com-pared notes on how they both were beat out of thousands of dollars’ worth of dope. Then my name just might come up. Until then, say it with me… fuck em’!

  Oh, and since the jig is up, in case you were wondering who killed Lisha, that was some more of my handy work. I know I had you believing that I was fucking Lisha, but I wasn’t. I knew better than to mix business with pleasure, unlike Byrd’s dumb ass. Lisha was starting to get a little too greedy with her demands, so it was time for her to go. I don’t know who the nigga was in the car with her, but when I rolled up on them Lisha’s head was in his lap. So, I hope it comforts you to know that he died a happy man. I know. I’m fucked up ain’t I?

  I wonder who would play me if my life’s story was ever turned into a movie. Denzel maybe? Naw… Denzel is too handsome to play my role… no homo. Come to think of it, I do get compared to Busta Rhymes a lot. I could see the resemblance before I cut my dreads off, but hey, Busta cut his off too. They would have to throw a scar on his face to match mines though. But me and Busta are about the same complexion, height, and diesel build thanks to all the weight lifting I did when I was in prison. We’re both very animated. Do you think he would be able to pull it off? Yeah, I think so too. A’ight. Busta it is!

  Mommy Dearest!

  I was walking back and forth from my bed to the closet hanging up my new clothes. I heard my cell phone vibrating on my dresser, and when I looked at it and saw that it was my momma calling for a second I thought about not answering my phone.

  “Hello,” I said with an attitude.

  “Hey Nic.”

  “What do you want Peaches?”

  “I just called to see how you were doing?”

  “No you didn’t.” I walked back inside the closet.

  “Did you know that Big Byrd passed away?”

  “Is that why you’re calling me? I could care less about a Big Byrd.”

  “Those are your in-laws Nicole. I thought you would want to know. Big Byrd might have left Bre some money,” she said.

  “I doubt that. They didn’t give me shit for him when Breon died.” I sifted through the racks looking for empty hangers.

  “Have you talked to Gail?”

  “No.”

  “Well, when is the last time you called to check on Bre, Nicole?”

  “Don’t worry about all of that.”

  “You shouldn’t have let that boy go live with Gail in the first place. A child is supposed to be with his mother.”

  “No the hell you didn’t just say that.” I was using my shoulder to hold the phone up to my ear. “How many kids do you have spread out across the world?” I laughed. Peaches could be very amusing when she wanted to be.

  “Shut up, Nicole,” she snapped back. “I love all of my children.”

  “Peaches, you don’t even know where half your kids are,” I kept laughing.

  “You see, that’s why I don’t call you.”

  “Do you think I care if you call me or not?”

  “Nicole, I am still your mother regardless of what I may have done in the past and I think I deserve a little bit of respect.” She sounded like she was crying, but I didn’t care.

  “Respect is something that’s earned.”

  “The bible says to honor thy mother and thy father and your days on earth will be longer,” she quoted.

  “Well, pray for me then, mommy dearest.”

  “I do!” she said as she raised her voice.

  “Nicole you act like you have ice running through your veins.”

  “Like mother like daughter.”

  “That’s not true. I’m all about forgiveness, praise Jesus.”

  “Peaches, you may have those people at that church fooled with your Holy Ghost bullshit, but not me.”

  “Forgive her Lord, for she knows not what she says.”

  “You know what,” I looked at my phone and then held it back up to my ear. “I’m about to hang up on your as
s.”

  “Wait, Nicole. Have you seen Dap lately?” she said quickly changing the subject.

  “Why?” I sat down on the floor in my closet to organize my shoes.

  “I called him a few times last week and he didn’t answer his phone.”

  “Peaches, Dap ain’t thinking ‘bout you.”

  “Shit, that man loves my last year drawls. I’m thinking about moving up there to Virginia.”

  “Where you gon’ stay at?”

  “I can’t stay with you, Nicole?”

  “Come on now Peaches don’t be ridiculous. You know me and you don’t get down like that.”

  “Dap will let me come stay with him.”

  “Why, don’t you leave that man alone? Dap has finally gotten himself together, and he doesn’t need you coming back into his world fucking it up.”

  “You know what, Nicole?” I already knew what Peaches was about to say, so I said it along with her. “I might be the one to pass you your last drink of water.” I paused before making my next statement.

  “Yeah, yeah… I know. Make sure it’s bottled water then,” I said before I hung up on her. I should have never answered my phone first place.

  Now, don’t get the wrong idea about me because of the way I spoke to Peaches. She may have given birth to me, but believe me when I tell you she is no mother. I was the first to be born so I am the one who has had to put up with her bullshit the longest. Peaches dropped her first load when she was only thirteen years old, and from then on she was having babies every Saturday. My grandma used to say she was breeding children like roaches.

  I have at least eight or nine brothers and sisters, and I couldn’t tell you who they are or where they are. All of Peaches’ kids were taken away from her just as soon as she pushed them out of her womb. Crack was the only baby Peaches cared about. Me and the rest of her offspring were only in the way. She lost custody of me when I was a year old. My grandma took me to visit Peaches in prison when I was ten, and I never saw her again until twenty years later. I’ve never had a relationship with her before and I don’t care to have one with her now. The first chance I get I’m going to change my phone number!

  Common Denominator!

  I only stayed at the house out at Larrimore Estates every once and a while. It actually was my cousin Breon’s crib. I honestly thought the guns and dope were his until the detective told me that it was an anonymous tip that led them to the house. Sabrina told me that she had seen Gremlin at her house long before the shooting at Quikshop. I thought she had Gremlin confused with some-body else, but now everything is starting to make sense. The only person who could have known about the dope and guns in the house was him. I could never figure out how Milk found out about the hustle I had going at Quikshop or how he was able to rob me for my last re-up, but now I know. Gremlin. That nigga set this shit up from the very beginning, and that was probably him shooting at us that night too. Eventually he was going to have to take one of us out to cover his tracks.

  I was charged with two counts of possession of a firearm and possession of a controlled substance with the intent to distribute. I was denied bail. After I was booked and finger printed, I sat in the bull pen for two hours before I was dressed out. Then, I had to wait another four hours before they put me into population. I tried calling home again and this time my grandma answered the phone, but I still couldn’t talk to her. The way the phone system is set up in this jail, the person you are calling has to have a pre-paid account set up. I did get a chance to say my name, though. I hope my grandma was paying attention to the recording when it gave instructions on how to set up the phone account. In the meantime, all I can do is wait.

  I Messed Up!

  I feel as if I am drowning in my own sea of anguish. I cannot eat, nor can I sleep, and I feel like my body is running on empty. I have so many thoughts running around in my head, it’s almost frightening and the constant harassment from the police is not helping the situation any. It didn’t matter to them that my cousin Asia was dead or that Milk had been shot. They were more concerned with the fact that I had been involved in a prior drive-by shooting earlier this year. I never said anything to them about Rico because that would have been something else to explain. Rico is most likely back in Florida by now. I realized he was just using me as a pawn and I was the perfect chess piece in his vendetta against Milk. The Rico I thought I knew was only a figment of my imagination. Byrd on the other hand was just as bad as Milk if not worse. I don’t know how to feel, or what to feel when it comes to Rico. It’s hard to mourn a lie.

  “Sabrina, are you in here, baby?”

  I heard the restroom door open and then close. “Yes ma’am,” I stopped crying long enough to say.

  “Sugar, come on out here and let Ms. Vera talk to you for a minute.”

  “I’ll be alright.” I could see Ms. Vera’s feet under the bathroom stall, and I knew she was not going to leave until I came out. I wiped my eyes with a piece of toilet paper, ran my fingers through my hair, and then opened the door. “I’m okay,” I forced myself to smile and say.

  “Lord have mercy, look at you,” she said as she put her arms around me. “Come over here and sit down for a minute.”

  “I’m fine, Ms. Vera.” I waved my hand at her. “I’m just tired that’s all.”

  “Sit down for a minute.” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I sat down.

  “You just had a baby Sabrina,” she softly said as she took my hand into hers. “Now, I know you are trying to be here for Milton, but you have to take care of you first. I watch you come back and forth to this hospital and each day you look more worn out than you did the day before.”

  I started crying again. Ms. Vera got up and got a paper towel, handed it to me, and then she sat back down. “Thank you.” I wiped my eyes. “Don’t let me keep you from doing your work Ms. Vera,” I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Ms. Vera has been off work for two hours,” she rubbed my shoulder. “Who has the baby now?”

  “My momma. I’m getting ready to go and pick her up.” I blew my nose into the paper towel.

  “You let that baby stay right where she is because you’re in no shape to deal with Saysha, especially the way that lil’ thang’ can holler.” I

  smiled thinking about my baby. “Go home, get you something to eat, run you a hot shower, and get yourself a good night’s sleep. Pray to God to give you the strength you need to deal with what you are going through. There’s a blessing in every lesson Sabrina,” she said smiling.

  “That sounds good, Ms. Vera.” I laughed a little. “I just wish I could twitch my nose like Samantha from Bewitched and make a whole lot of things go away. I messed up, Ms. Vera,” I started to cry again. “I messed up really bad.”

  “Child, we all mess up,” she said looking at me. “Sabrina, that’s what makes us human. Now, I could tell you some stories about messing up, but we would be in this bathroom for the next two years.” When she said that I started crying even harder. “Go ahead and get it all out, baby.” Ms. Vera pulled me closer to her, and then she rocked me in her arms. “Cry until you can’t cry no more.”

  Behavior Modification!

  I gripped the back of Tennille’s head, pushed my dick further into her mouth, and caused her to gag.

  “Why you stop?”

  “I’m sorry Daddy,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t call me no fuckin’ daddy!” I screamed at her. “Do I look like a trick to you?” I let go of her neck and then pulled her up by her hair. “It’s no wonder you ain’t making no mothafuckin’ money out here with the slum ass head you out here serving. Move.” I pushed her up against the passenger side door, and then I pulled up my pants.

  “I told you I had a toothache Gremlin,” she said, now holding the side of her mouth with her hand.

  “Oh, yeah?” I looked at her. “Well, let me see if I can help you out with that.” Before Tennille had a chance to say anything else I punched her in the mouth repeatedly until I d
rew blood. “Feel better?” She shook her head yes. “Now, when I come back through this mothafucka’ tomorrow night my money better be straight. Now get the fuck out!” I waited until Tennille closed the door before I pulled off.

  Damn, it is hard to find good help nowadays. I realize that not everybody has the same work ethic as I do, but when you choose a profession why not work hard to be the best at it? Remember when I told you I was going to have to do some behavior modification? Well, that was an example right there. As her boss, it is my responsibility to ensure that she works up to her full potential. That’s just another day at the office.

  I was about to head on home and lay it down for the night, but I decided to stop by my aunt’s house to check up on her. When I was locked up for those eight years Aunt Jean was the only one who came to visit me, and she made sure I had money for canteen. I know how niggas carry shit out here in the streets and I did not want anybody fucking with her trying to get at me. So a few months after I was released from prison, I moved my aunt from out of the Pork n’ Beans projects into a condo outside of Tampa.

  I do not have any memories of my momma. That hoe bitch left me when I was a little boy. The story I was told was that pops used to fuck her up, and so she left him. I could understand that, but why leave me behind to take his abuse? What kind of mother does that? Ummm… mine, but fuck that bitch. If I did know where she was, I would not piss on her if her if she were on fire.

  “What’s up Aunt Jean?” I closed the front door behind me.

  “Hey Shawn.” I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “What are doing here?”

  “I just came by to check up on you… see how you were doing.”

  “Where you coming from all dressed up like that? You look handsome.” Aunt Jean took her glasses off and then sat them down on the table.