Cry Revenge (Holloway House Originals)

by Donald Goines

  The afternoon was turning into evening. Curtis watched Shirley's apartment, then finally decided to make his move. He put on his best shirt, his leather pants, and his suede boots.

  She opened the door wearing a terrycloth robe that was partially open. Curtis looked at the smooth brown skin between the bulge of her breasts. She smiled at him, showing even, white teeth. "I've been expecting you, Curtis," she said, opening the door wider.

  At that moment, Curtis knew that he had it made. He and Shirley got pretty thick pretty quick!

  5

  AS HE LOOKED AROUND the apartment, taking in the new furniture, Curt's chest swelled with pride. His woman, Shirley, was in the kitchen preparing a quick lunch for him and her three children. He stretched his legs on the gold-colored couch and patted the cushion. The smell of the new furniture filled his nostrils as he inhaled deeply. Give another month, he reflected, and he just might have a new house. At the rate the dope was selling, it shouldn't take too much longer. First thing, though, he was going to get him a new car. The old 1955 Buick he had bought was good for now, but for a man as fast as he was, it just wasn't his speed. What he really wanted was a new Cadillac. That was more down his line than some antique Buick.

  "Honey," Shirley called from the kitchen, "do you want rye bread or white with your ham?"

  "Put mine on white bread," Curt answered as he got up and moved the marble-topped coffee table out of the way. Curtis removed a small package from his pocket and shook out the white powder onto an album cover. He then took his driver's license and packed the white powder into a smooth pile in front of him. He took an old strainer that his woman used in the kitchen and ran the dope through it. After he was sure it was good and strained, he shook out some more white powder from another package. He quickly mixed the two powders together. By the time he had it mixed, his woman came out of the kitchen carrying his sandwich.

  "I hope you finish with that stuff before the children come home from school for their lunch break," Shirley said.

  He glanced up at the attractive, light-skinned woman. She was wearing a pair of black hotpants that did more than just reveal her lovely shape. Her wellshaped long legs seemed to be flawless. As she set the dish containing the food down in front of him, he ran his hand slowly down her lovely legs.

  "Goddamn," Curtis said as he pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her passionately. He ran his hands through her long black hair. As he played with a string of it, he kissed her on the ear. You are one lucky motherfucker, Curtis, he said to himself as she returned his kiss.

  Shirley slowly pushed him away. "Honey," she began, "I wish you would take care of your business so that fat bastard George wouldn't have to come here." She hesitated, then added, "At least whenever you're not here. I don't like for him to come in when you're not here."

  Curtis raised up and stared into her eyes. "Shirley, don't give me no shit now. What did he do, or try to do to you, while I wasn't here?"

  She shook her head. "He didn't try to do nothing, Curt. It's just the things he hints at. You know what I mean."

  "The hell I do," he said half angrily. "I don't have the slightest idea of what he says, so pull my coat!"

  Again she hesitated, then said, "Well, you know. Me being part Mexican and all that shit. He hints around it, you know, why don't I have a Chicano, or did I ever have a Mexican boyfriend. Shit like that. Nothing out of the way, you know, that you could get mad at, but I just don't like him. The way he looks at me and all that shit!"

  Curtis grinned at her. "Well, I can't really blame him for lookin' at you, Shirley. You know, you're one hell of an eyeful for anybody, and I'm one happy motherfucker to have you for my woman!"

  She smiled, bent over, and kissed him. "You better finish packaging that stuff up. The kids will be here for lunch in another five minutes" She climbed off his lap. "We won't get anything done with me sittin' here on top of you."

  "Oh, baby, we'll get something done, all right, it just might not be what you had on your mind, that's all."

  They laughed together, then she blew him a kiss from a safe distance. "Okay, lover man. You finish what you're doing and I'll think of some way to thank you for the lovely furniture. It's just too beautiful for words"

  "If you can't think of anything, I might have an idea of how you can repay me," Curtis said and leered at her in such a way that she knew just what he was talking about.

  "Oh, my God," she replied, mockingly, "I've got a sex fiend on my hands!"

  Curtis waited until she disappeared into the kitchen before he began to pack the dope into balloons. First he would put an empty balloon on the end of a small funnel, then he'd put a small amount of dope into a measuring spoon, then empty it into the funnel and shake it down until it went into the small balloon. After that, he would roll up the balloon into a small bundle and tie small knots in the end of it.

  Curtis had just finished with the last balloon and was counting them when the doorbell rang. Shirley came out of the kitchen and went to the door. She cast a quick glance in his direction to make sure all of the dope was out of sight before opening the door.

  As he stuffed the balloons in his coat pocket, Curtis counted them slowly. Twenty-five balloons at twenty dollars apiece. It wasn't too bad, but it wasn't much of an earthshaker either, he reflected, taking his hand out of his pocket as the first child came rushing through the door.

  "Hi, Daddy," the little six-year-old girl yelled as she came past. She was a small replica of her mother-the same long black hair, with the flashing dark eyes. Following close behind her was her little brother. At four years of age, he resembled his mother and sister, yet had the height of the man who had sired him. He was already taller than his older sister, but that was the only difference between them in appearance. He looked as much like her as it was possible for a boy to favor a girl without being funny. Behind him came his double, only his twin brother didn't quite have the height that he had. They were almost impossible to tell apart.

  Both of the boys called Curtis "Daddy" as they went by, but they used the word in name only. There was nothing about Curtis in any of the children. Any one of the three could have passed for a Mexican whenever they wanted to. There were no distinctive Negro characteristics about any of the children.

  After the children filed past into the kitchen, Curtis ate his food slowly, enjoying every bite as he studied the living room of the apartment. What he needed, he decided, was some matching wall-to-wall carpet on the floor, something that would set off the expensive furniture he had just bought. The drapes were a light brown, so they matched the rest of the stuff in the apartment fairly well, but he wasn't satisfied with what he saw. He knew it would take time.

  Curtis was suddenly interrupted from his day dreams by the doorbell. Shirley came out of the kitchen and went to the door. She peeped through the peephole, then took off the night chain. She opened the door and stepped back.

  As Dan walked into the apartment, Curtis was surprised to see how skinny the man looked compared to the last time he had seen him. He knew now that Dan was using stuff, but it was no surprise. He had known before that Dan liked to snort heroin, but from what he had heard, Dan was now a mainliner.

  "What it is, Curt?" Dan called out as he stepped into the apartment. "Long time no see." Dan held out his hand.

  Curtis slapped it in a friendly manner, then sat back down. "Yeah, bro, it's been a while since I last saw you, but I been hearing about you here and there."

  "Yeah, Curt, I'll just bet you have," Dan said, then continued. "Say, my man, you got some of that good stuff, ain't you?"

  Curtis shook his head. "Yeah, bro, I got a few bags. What was it you wanted to cop, Dan?" Curtis asked after taking a quick glance at the kitchen to make sure none of the kids were in hearing distance.

  A sly look came into Dan's yellowish eyes as he stared at his old buddy. "You ain't got nothing but them twenties made up, have you, Curt?" he inquired sharply.

  Curtis nodded his head in agreement.
"Yeah, man, if you want something bigger than that, I can't help you. If you'll let me know ahead of time, I can get it for you, though."

  "Naw, naw, baby, I don't want no big thing. All I want is a twenty-dollar bag, but the problem is, Curt, I ain't got but ten dollars."

  Curtis glanced up at the man. "Dan, don't play games with me now. You wouldn't have come by here to cop with your money short, 'cause you know Shirley couldn't let you go for that amount"

  Dan held up his hand. "Hey, bro, I never would have stopped if I hadn't seen your old ride sittin' outside. Since I knew you were here, I decided to come up and give it a try for old times sake, you know what I mean?"

  For a brief second, Curtis was going to turn him down, then changed his mind. "Okay, Dan, this time I'll go along with it, but don't come to me that short again, hear?"

  "Yeah, partner," Dan said with a sly smile. "You ain't got to worry about it. I don't be short that often, do I, Shirley?" Dan glanced down at the rug.

  She agreed with him. "Most of the time his money is right, Curt, except for a quarter or two at times."

  "Okay," Curt answered as he removed a balloon from his pocket and tossed it to Dan. "Be cool when you leave out of here, Dan," he said by way of goodbye. Curtis waited until Shirley had let him back out the door, then he shook his head.

  "It's hard to believe the way that man has come down in the last month," he stated.

  "Shit!" Shirley exclaimed. "It ain't so hard if you understand what happened to him. You didn't want to believe it when I ran it down to you, but like I said, Fat George was behind it. He put Rose up to it. Dan thought he was coppin' a fast Mexican whore, and he wasn't doing nothing but falling into a trap George set for him. Now, I don't know why George went to all the trouble to set Dan up that way, but I swear to you it's true. I talked to Rose and she told me about it. George paid her to play along with Dan, then make sure and put him on the needle. After that, she could leave whenever she felt like it. He took care of her habit as long as she was with Dan, and for a while kept both of them in dope."

  Curtis shook his head. "It's hard to believe. I don't think George is that goddamn dangerous, but if he did what you said, he is a dirty motherfucker. I'd hate to have him against me."

  Shirley watched her man closely. "If I were you, Curt, I wouldn't trust George as far as you do. I don't think he likes any black men. You included."

  Curtis laughed loudly. "Shit, Shirley, that's just about all the people he does business with. If he didn't like blacks, do you think he could spend all the time he does with them?"

  "Yes," she answered honestly, "I certainly do. Especially when you stop and think about what kind of business he is doing. Haven't you noticed how much he enjoys toying with the addicts he comes in touch with? And if you stop and think about it, Curt, just remember all the times he has tried to get you to take a snort of that junk. I can count over ten times that I've heard him offer it to you. `Here, Curt,"' she mocked Fat George, "'come on and have a little snort. It ain't about nothin'."' Shirley laughed coldly. "If you think he's your friend, Curtis, you are one dumb-ass nigger, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart!"

  Curtis glanced at her coldly. "Nigger" was a word she seldom used, for any reason. But what she said made sense, now that she had brought it to his attention. George did go out of his way to try to get Curtis to take a snort, even to the point of offering him cocaine, something else he didn't bother with. From now on, he promised himself, he would stay on his guard whenever he was around Fat George. The man was dangerous, there was no doubt about it, especially now that he knew what trouble George had gone through to fix Dan's wagon. George had sworn that he would, and it looked as if he had. Making a drug addict out of a man was payback enough.

  "A penny for your thoughts," Shirley said sweetly as she leaned over and kissed him on the neck. Before they could get involved in anything, the kitchen door opened and the three children came out. They had washed their hands in the kitchen so they were ready to go back to school. Each child stopped and kissed Curtis on the cheek, then stopped and kissed their mother before hurrying toward the front door. Every day they rushed through their meal so that they could get back to the school grounds to play a while before the school bell rang.

  Shirley watched them leave as she held the door open for them. There was a gleam in her eyes, sparkling brightly as she closed the door behind them.

  Curtis stood up and held his arms open for her. "If the telephone rings, or doorbell, won't anybody answer on this end," he stated as he took her into his arms. She almost ran to him. Their embrace was tender; they kissed slowly, then slipped to the floor.

  As she stretched out on the rug beside him, Curtis opened her white blouse slowly, loosening each button with care. When he had it all the way open, he began to feel for the small hook at the back that held her bra in place. At first he had trouble getting it open, then he found the catch and it came loose in his nimble fingers. Her large, well-shaped breasts were exposed and he played with one, then the other, slowly kissing each one until the nipples became hard under his manipulations. Shirley groaned, then let out a deep moan of sexual excitement. Her breath became ragged as she tried to hold back her desires.

  With slow deliberation, Curtis began to kiss her longer and harder. He ran his tongue around inside her mouth, enjoying the touch of his tongue on each part of her body. Wherever he kissed her, she became aroused. Her deep moans worked to arouse him deeply.

  Taking his time, Curtis began to work her hotpants down from her hips. With them, he removed her mini panties. He pushed the silk down over her knees, then stopped and kissed the area they had just departed from. His kisses now aroused in her a hunger that wouldn't be still. Her tongue was everywhere, wherever she could reach. He could feel her warm wetness.

  He finally managed to push the hotpants com pletely off, and now she lay under him as naked as she was when she came into the world. He could feel his dick throbbing. It was hard as a rock. Where it rested on her leg, Shirley could feel his heat and knew it was time to take him inside of her. She squirmed into position under him, reached down, and grasped the hard meat. She held it firmly, then opened her legs and guided it into her warm cunt. Instantly, she let out a brief scream, then reached up and clutched him tightly to her, drawing her legs up around his waist.

  Curtis buried his face into her neck as he began to move slowly and gently into the warmness that so eagerly awaited him.

  6

  NARCOTICS AGENT WILLIAM Benson, a highlypaid drug addict who worked as an undercover informer, sat in the parked car moodily awaiting his New Mexico working partner. After fishing for a month, he believed he had a drug addict who would set up one of the Mexicans. The Mexican was believed to have a direct connection from across the border. What Benson regretted was the inevitable loss of a damn good connection that he was really enjoying. The dope was always good.

  Benson's partner, a young Chicano who was not known in Clovis, New Mexico, approached the car. He looked like a drug addict but was not. He was a square agent, yet of the school where he would snort drugs if it was necessary. That was why the two worked so well in the border cities.

  It had been a hot summer night in August when Benson had first met his partner, Tony Gonzia. The temperature that night had not dropped below ninety degrees. The town of Las Vegas, New Mexico, had been searing. The people of the small drug town stood on the streets, unable to confront the heat inside their small rooms and houses. William Benson was just one of the many black men standing around Uncle Walter's Chicken Coop that night.

  "Let me lay it on you again, amigo," the short Mexican had whispered into Benson's ear. "The man is waiting there now. No sweat, you know what I mean?"

  Benson looked out across the street. There was a group of junkies lounging by the hamburger joint, smoking cigarettes and talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. Benson was new in Las Vegas and didn't know the contacts. He was trying out Pancho, the little Mexican, and felt wary about
it. But he needed a fix and he knew he was going to have to take a chance.

  "All right, my man," Benson said finally, "take me to the place. This heat is doing me in...."

  Pancho grinned at him with a toothless smile. "You're on, baby...."

  Pancho led Benson down the main street, then to a small alleyway, through a vacant lot and to the rear door of a large warehouse. There was a bright light outside the door, and when Pancho reached it, he unscrewed the naked bulb. Both men waited in darkness until a maroon Cadillac turned into the alleyway and stopped next to the rear entrance.

  "There it is, my man. Be cool." And with that, Pancho disappeared into the night carrying the twenty dollars that Benson had paid him for the contact.

  The electric window of the Cadillac came down, and a chubby Mexican leaned out. He didn't smile but only reached behind him and opened the back door. Benson climbed into the rear seat and sat in the total darkness. There was no one else in the car but himself and the mute Mexican.

  Benson began to grow edgy as the driver took him out of town and into the desert. The blackness around him, the hot winds, everything added up to give Benson a sense of real dread. He had never scored in Las Vegas before, had only heard about the place through the junkie grapevine. The stories that came out in Watts about the New Mexico town were incredible. Dope was easy there, no hassles and no pressure. The brown shit just floated across the border and into Las Vegas. After the shit went down in Watts, and a few of the brothers got on Benson for some dope hassles, the young black had decided that new grounds were in order. Las Vegas was the perfect place. Loaded with enough smack, Benson took a Greyhound out of L.A. and rode with great expectations into the New Mexico desert.

  But this first score was something else again, and Benson didn't like the way it was coming off.