Ghetto Girls 5

by Anthony Whyte

  “Plan A is education and so too is plan B, Mrs. Martinez,” Coco said confidently.

  “Okay then, this should help shine some light on your plans,” Mrs. Martinez said, handing Coco a folder filled with papers. Then she continued. “All you have to do is promise me you’ll fill out the forms, and mail the package back to me with the envelope inside. I can retrieve all your records from the school.”

  A gush of wind sent air whipping around the trio. Coco paused and looked at the folder Mrs. Martinez offered. It was labeled Minority Scholarship. After what seemed like an eternity, Coco took the folder.

  “Maybe you should be giving it to someone who really needs it,” Deedee said assertively.

  “Denise, you’re well-off and—”

  “Mrs. Martinez my name is Deedee. All my friends call me that so—”

  “Well Deedee, you’re from a rich family. Your uncle—”

  “My uncle’s biz is his own, Mrs. Martinez!” Deedee said, sounding irritated.

  “Good looking out, Mrs. Martinez. I’ll fill it out and mail it back to you,” Coco said, stepping in between Deedee Mrs. Martinez.

  Coco’s reaction eased the rising tension. Mrs. Martinez smiled at Coco.

  “You’re welcome, Coco. Deedee, I’m glad to see that you’re once again outgoing. And you girls can go back to your cigarette smoking now,” she said.

  “Well thank you, Mrs. Martinez,” Deedee said with sarcasm.

  Deedee smirked as the girls waved and the overly friendly guidance counselor walked away. Deedee shook her head while Coco silently looked on. Coco stared at her best friend and slowly realized how emotional Deedee appeared.

  “Damn girl, you were kind a went in on poor Mrs. Martinez. Be easy, yo.”

  “Coco, that nosey woman put me through soo much after that rape incident. I didn’t know whether to thank her or beat her down!”

  “Okay chill, yo. She’s just trying to help.”

  “Help…? She just wanna find out things so she could go gossip,” Deedee deadpanned.

  Dressed in Chloe sandals and Donna Karan dress, Deedee seemed to mentally shift gears. Coco saw tears streaming from beneath her Gucci shades. By the time Coco reached out to hug her, Deedee was bawling loudly. They hugged and Coco guided her inside the car.

  “We ain’t gotta go nowhere, yo,” Coco said, helping Deedee. “I just don’t want anyone to think I’m jacking you.”

  “Jacking me…?” Deedee asked. Then she laughed. “You’re soo silly,” she continued, laughing while drying her tears.

  “Let’s get out of here, yo. This place’s getting me emotional too.”

  Coco walked to the passenger side and got inside. She sat staring at Deedee who continued chuckling. Reaching for a tissue, she blew her nose and chuckled some more.

  “Damn yo, that shit wasn’t that funny. I guess you needed a joke.”

  “Yes, I did,” Deedee said and paused.

  “I mean that incident was not too long ago and Mrs. Martinez is helpful and she might not have realized that you’re still a little jaded by—”

  “Are you talking about what Mrs. Martinez said?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think she meant it—”

  “I mean she counseled me after the rape incident went down, yada-yada, but that’s not what’s bothering me. It’s what happened when I saw Sophia.”

  “So what happened when you saw Sophia, yo?” Coco asked after a beat.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I guess that’s why I’m asking,” Coco deadpanned.

  “Well besides her being a bitch-”

  “A bitch, yo…?”

  “A bitch. I found out from her that my mother is officially dead. Shot dead. And my father and uncle might be responsible for killing her,” Deedee deadpanned.

  Coco stared at Deedee in surprise and heard her voice echoing. There was an incredible look on Deedee’s face.

  “Hold da fuck up? What yo?”

  “If I decide to do so, I may cooperate with the DA and they will not implicate poor little old me.”

  “What da fuck? I thought I had problems. Damn yo!”

  “I was a rape victim, so they won’t implicate me. As for Ms. Sophia Lawrence, she’ll be cooperating. She told me an unknown source told the DA all about the conspiracy and will testify to it.”

  “Get da fuck outta here! That’s some crazy shit, yo.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Oh that’s all fucked up. So what are you gonna do now, yo?”

  “I don’t know. I know I’m gonna tell Uncle E what took place between me and Sophia. I’ll let him decide. He brought her into his life and paid for her education, and this is the way she goes about thanking him—by testifying against him.”

  “That’s soo fucking wrong, yo. So are you gonna testify or get implicated?”

  “I’m getting implicated,” Deedee said, starting the car.

  Coco stared at her and said, “Then I should be implicated too. I was there when everything went down, including the shootings, yo.”

  “So you already know how it went down, Coco.”

  “Dee, say no more. I remember, yo.”

  Lil’ Long rang Eric Ascot’s doorbell. Sophia promptly answered the door, barely opening it. Lil’ Long kicked the door completely open and smacked Sophia with the butt of his gun. He stuck the nozzle in Eric Ascot’s chest, while standing over Sophia’s unconscious body. The taxi with Coco, Deedee and Kamilla, Vulcha’s girlfriend in it had long arrived at Eric’s house. They had witnessed Lil’ Long’s dramatic entry.

  “Is there another way in?” Kamilla asked.

  “Yes,” Deedee said.

  “That’s probably where Vulcha went,” Kamilla said. “He gave me a twenty-two. I’m gonna go back there and surprise him.”

  “Let me go with you, yo.”

  “No, Coco, come with me,” Deedee said. “Let’s go through the other entrance and get the guns. Uncle E keeps them in his bedroom.”

  “A’ight, yo,” Coco said.

  She helped Deedee climb through the window. Meanwhile Kamilla entered the rear door. She heard Lil’ Long yelling loudly.

  “They killed my man! For what…? You muthafuckas has got to pay!”

  Kamilla, not knowing what she was up against, entered the room and pointed her gun at Lil’ Long. Before she could pull the trigger, Lil’ Long’s gun blasted twice. Kamilla fell in a heap. Her made-up face splattered on the wall like some grotesque artwork. Lil’ Long turned the gun back to Eric. Eric’s mouth was agape. He held his hands high.

  “Put your mo-muthafuckin’ h-hands d-down, nigga, this ain’t no fucking stick-up. See, it’s like this; in order for me to be immortal, all weak niggas must die,” Lil’ Long said.

  Then, without warning, an explosion filled the room. Lil’ Long wobbled and staggered. He turned to see Coco holding a smoking shotgun, and Deedee, pointing a forty-five at him. Another outburst hit him and he slumped on his knees.

  “Take that, Mr. Immortality,” Deedee said, holding the weapon.

  “Hello!” Coco said. “What you know bout that, huh?”

  The Desert Eagle remained in Lil’ Long’s grip as the blood oozed profusely from his slumping body. Deedee took aim and squeezed off one more round. Lil’ Long fell forward, his body twitching.

  “I know all about the killings before and after that, yo. That Lil’ Long nigga didn’t die right there. The police killed him and tried to pin it on Eric,” Coco solemnly announced.

  “You’re a true friend,” Deedee said, hugging Coco. “Are you ready to go to the studio?”

  “Yes I am.”

  The BMW joined traffic heading downtown. The light traffic made the cruise downtown much easier. A few minutes later, they arrived at the garage below the studio building. Coco watched Deedee hurrying inside. She knew Deedee was on a mission and walked behind her, giving her support.

  “However this goes down, Dee… I got your back, yo.”

  Wit
h a determined silence, Deedee nodded and the elevator arrived. They rode in silence and Deedee strutted to her uncle’s office. He was there on both his cell phone and office phone. Deedee turned to Coco.

  “I’d rather do this by myself,” she said.

  “Cool, I’ll be inside the booth, yo.”

  Coco strolled to the other side of the studio, already thinking about the recording session. She entered the booth and saw Reggie with headphones on, listening to a track. The music was so loud and he was into it. Reggie never saw Coco until she was close to him.

  “What up, yo?” Coco greeted.

  “Hey Coco, how’re ya? You ready?”

  “Let’s get this thing done, yo.”

  “Let’s do it,” Reggie said, removing his headphones.

  “Let that beat flow through the speakers, yo.”

  “A’ight, I was about to do that,” Reggie said, walking to the main console.

  Sitting down, he moved his fingers across the controls. Soon the music came blasting out of the speakers. Reggie bounced his head off the heavy bass-laden beat. Coco was already rocking out. Entering the booth, no longer thinking about her mother or Deedee, Coco started singing a hook.

  Deedee heard her uncle on the phone and sat quietly waiting for him to be finished. Eric Ascot glanced at the troubled expression on his niece’s face. His cell phone was at one ear and he wondered for a beat while listening to his office phone.

  “Are you in rush, Dee? Or do you wanna see me later?” Eric asked Deedee. “This may take a few minutes.”

  “I’ll wait,” Deedee said.

  Her eyes sadly wandered around the office, and she saw all the platinum plaques lining the wall. Then she took a good look at the collection of books and statuettes that decorated the place. Deedee’s stare lingered on the picture of her father in close embrace with his brother. She got up and was about to walk closer when she heard her uncle’s voice.

  “What’s bothering you, Dee?”

  “Oh uncle, I went and saw Sophia earlier and…” Deedee’s voice trailed.

  “And what…?” Eric asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

  The expression on his face betrayed his thoughts. Deedee saw the agitated twitch of his eyebrow and decided to be as honest as she possibly could.

  “She said you’re being charged for the murder of my mother and the district attorney office has a tape of you and my father plotting to kill her before he died—”

  “Before he was killed by the police, Dee,” Eric interrupted.

  “Sophia played the tape… She let me hear you, and I did. Uncle you gotta tell me. Did you have anything to do with my mother’s death?”

  “This is grown folks’ biz, but since you let yourself in, let me hip you to certain things. Ten years ago, your mother became hooked on crack cocaine. She stole from my brother and compromised his security and your future. She needed help. After your father was killed I got her placed in rehab. She stayed for a month then she ran away. I haven’t seen or heard from her since then. Now how am I gonna be involved in her death when I didn’t even know she was alive for the past seven years?”

  “I—”

  “As for Sophia feeding you all that bullshit…”

  “She wants me to testify against you and if I don’t they can charge me,” Deedee said.

  “No, no honey. You don’t have to do a damn thing. First of all you’re a minor and—”

  “Uncle, I graduated. You treat me like I’m seven, not seventeen,” Deedee said. “I’m going on eighteen. Give me some credit here.”

  “You’re legally a minor and you have nothing to do with this. What else did Sophia say?”

  “She basically wants to keep her job. She doesn’t want to testify against you but she said because of her job she has to or she could be disbarred. I mean she got into a lot of detail but it was mainly that I should cooperate with the investigation or face being indicted.”

  “I’m about to put a stop to all her B.S.”

  Eric walked to his desk and picked up the phone. He quickly dialed the number, and Deedee waited in silence as the phone rang on the other end.

  “Max Roose please,” Eric said.

  Deedee listened as her uncle waved her off and said, “This really is adult biz. You stay out of it. I’ll handle it.” Eric picked up his ringing cell phone. “They have no right in getting you involved and as for Sophia, I’ll handle her,” Eric continued as he checked the caller ID on his cell phone. He answered it. “Silky Black, congrats on that new track. Yeah I got a beat for you… Hold on a minute, Silk… Yeah Max we have to meet…”

  Eric Ascot moved from one phone to the next. Deedee watched him for a few beats then she walked to the wall decorated with a collage of snapshots. The picture was worth a thousand words. Memories of her father shot through camera lens helped Deedee to see how close Eric Ascot was to his older brother, her father. The photos on the wall showed them together surviving and building a musical empire. Deedee wanted to believe in her uncle. He was always forthright with her. And Eric Ascot was all about building the family business. She had watched him for seven years.

  She felt like she was part of it now. It was a connection she could not resist. He helped Sophia and she had turned on him. Deedee felt bonded and couldn’t turn on her family. Her mind drifted through her past and brought her to meeting Coco. She and Da’ Crew were really excited to know Deedee’s connection to Ascot Music. Now she was in the studio recording. Deedee shook her head, this couldn’t be bad, she thought.

  Whatever I live I write

  Even when times are warming

  The rhymes I’m writing are

  tougher than dice and…

  I’m balling ain’t got to go so far

  Deserving all the millions I’ll collect

  Even though I ain’t hit that high note yet…

  Coco was in the recording booth spitting lyrics on a new track. Kim and Tina heard the sound banging and walked into the recording studio. Watching in awe, they were moved by the song Coco was blowing. Then she would spit a rhyme and sing some more. Clad in tight jeans, their bodies swayed to the beat. Reggie spotted them standing at the door and waved them inside.

  “You’ve been working all morning on that one track. It really sounds good even with her voice on it,” Kim noted.

  “Shut da front door! You can say that again,” Tina said. “I can rap a little so maybe one day me and you can work together,” she flirted.

  “Aw thanks, but stop hatin’. Coco sounds good on it. Her spitting is on point,” Reggie said.

  “Who’s hatin’…? Shyt, I ain’t,” Kim said. “Before I had my son, I used to be the lead singer in the church choir, back in the days.”

  “You go, girl,” Tina exclaimed, high-fiving Kim.

  “No, but seriously, Coco is methadone dope. I mean she give you shit to lean on,” Reggie said.

  “Well, I may not be methadone and shyt, but I can really sing,” Kim said.

  “Yes you can. I hear you singing and I know you up there with Mariah or one of them,” Tina said.

  “I sound more like a younger Mary J. Blige,” Kim said.

  “Don’t go there, girl. Uh-uh—not Mary J. No, no girl, you ain’t no Mary J.”

  “What you try’na say?”

  “I’m sayin’ you a good singer, and all. But you ain’t no Mary J. Mary really got it going on. Plus those some big shoes to fill,” Tina said.

  “Coco is really good though,” Reggie said.

  “She got her style and the kids, they like that rap and singing together. She got that going on,” Kim said.

  “Ain’t nobody said she ain’t got something. I’m certainly not,” Tina smiled.

  “This shit’s gonna bang in the clubs!” Reggie said, taking his eyes off Kim’s ass and passing his fingers over the controls.

  “You should take a break before you bust a blood vessel with all that excitement,” Kim suggested.

  “Can’t right now… Coco’s going in
on this track,” Reggie said, keeping his fingers on the control.

  “I thought we could go to lunch,” Kim said.

  “I can’t,” Reggie said.

  “Then we’re gonna order lunch. Can we get you anything?” Tina asked.

  “Yes, a chocolate shake and cheeseburger with fries,” Reggie responded, reaching into his pocket.

  “Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s on us,” Tina said.

  “Thank you,” Reggie smiled.

  “I’m feeling that young bwoy and shyt,” Kim laughed.

  “Shut your face, bitch! But he got sump’n going on,” Tina smiled, looking back at Reggie seductively.

  He smiled at Tina and sat down at the controls. Reggie watched Coco then his fingers moved across the knobs. Sounds blasted louder out the speakers. Reggie bounced his head off the heavy bass. Coco was rocking out, singing a hook. Kim and Tina were about to walk out, but paused at the door. Their eyes were transfixed by at the prodigious teen performing in her world. All heads were nodding to the rhythm of the song.

  How big you want it they ask

  When they serving me checks

  Dreaming how I started out on shoestring diet

  Wing and a prayer got me a musical connect

  Getting ready to rumble championship fights…

  Rocketing nonstop to the top I’ll never drop…

  This ball still here shooting at starlights

  Out during day and night running my laps

  Rhymes I write are tougher than dice…

  Coco was still in her zone when Tina brought Reggie’s orders. Reggie, caught up in the process of his work, didn’t acknowledge her. She gave him a kiss on his lips and pat on his head. Then she pointed to the food next to him and slowly walked out. She continued watching Reggie who was captivated by Coco.

  Her face appeared sad when Deedee strutted through the soundproof door of the recording studio. His chocolate shake was complete liquid and his burger had gone cold. Reggie saw Coco walking out of the recording booth. Finally he turned and looked at his food. Coco wore a smile of satisfaction, as Reggie stared in dismay at his lunch.