The Trouble Consultant shot him a slick smile and shrug. “Oops.”
Bug-Out bent over to pick up the money and Havoc gave him a swift kick in the ass that shot him down the hall like a hockey puck where he banged his head against the wall. He then got up, bent over, heaved, spit out something chunky then cleaned his mouth with the bottom of his shirt.
“Daddy!” Little AJ screamed and ran to his father.
“I can’t believe you were really going to sell me your son. Your own flesh and blood.” Havoc said shaking his head ashamed of his cousin.
“What can I say? Life tossed me a curve ball.” Bug-Out explained full of sorrow.
“And what, you’re using your son to get a hit?” Havoc yelled then forced himself to calm down because he was scaring AJ. “That bullshit you’re kicking may sound like poetry to you, but to me it sounds like bullshit! C’mon shorty let’s go,” when he went to take the child’s hand, the boy angrily snatched it back. After seeing his father on the floor stirring in pain and his mother crying, AJ changed his mind about leaving and wanted to stay. They may not have been much, but they where his parents and he still loved them regardless.
“I hate you!” the child screamed and began to cry.
“No…don’t say that son. Your cousin is only trying to help you. Do what he tells you and go on ahead with him.” Bug-Out said sadly realizing his cousin was right. He couldn’t do ‘Jack’ for his son let alone himself.
With tears rolling down his cheeks AJ obeyed his daddy and took his cousin’s hand. Havoc stopped in the doorway then turned to his cousin very disappointed.
“How could you let this happen?” Havoc demanded.
“I dunno,” Bug-Out sighed heavily, “One day I was headed to where my God given talents would take me, then I made a turn, and another, and another until…there was no turning back.”
“He’ll be at your mother’s,” Havoc said referring to AJ then signaled for his dog and walked out.
After they were gone Bug-Out sat there feeling like shit….
“Damn nigga I ain’t know Havoc was Yo cousin.” Dead Broke said to a stone-faced Bug-Out breaking the loud silence.
Chapter 18
Sitting in drunken darkness, Corbin refilled his glass with the cognac he received as a Christmas gift from his secretary Kate. His original plan was to drive home but somehow he wound up behind his desk at work drowning his sorrows in a glass of alcohol. Since he was not a big drinker he was stone drunk after his second drink.
“Sad old man! How dare you cu-call me a sssad old man!” He vented with slurred speech and picked up Nicky’s picture off his desk. “I hope you realize that you blew it young lady! You were the best thing that ever happened to you. No! To me. No, I mean I’m the best thing that ever happened to me! No-I mean, oh to hell with it! The bottom line is that you could have had it all Nicolette! Carte blanche! I’m an important man who’s going places! Unlike that loser ex-husband of yours! What could he do for you huh?” He demanded then laughed at himself for yelling at a portrait. “Oh God Nicolette, you gotta take me back. I love you so.” He traced the outline of her lips then kissed her picture and picked up the phone and dialed. After the fourth ring Nicky picked up. “Nicolette, I mean Nicky? It’s me. Please don’t hang…up. Fuck!” He swore as she slammed the phone in his ear. He dialed her again. “Nicky If you’ll just hear me out, I know we can…DAMN!” he tried her again but this time it was off the hook. He angrily cleared his desk with one swipe then poured another glass of cognac and turned it up to his lips.
Soon the room was doing back flips and he felt the contents in his stomach trying to escape. He quickly grabbed the waste paper basket just in time to barf into it. After throwing up until his stomach was in painful knots, he opened the window inhaled some cold air then sat back down and removed an old picture of Nicky and Tommy that he had stolen from her photo album. He stared at them embraced and smiling. Laughing at him. Mocking him. How come she never held him like that? Or even took a picture with him for that matter? The heartache was too much. He felt like that little ugly thing from that Alien movie had burst out of his chest and ripped his heart to shreds. The pain was too much and he threw up again. He wiped the sweat, drool, and water from his face with a downward swipe then ripped the picture down the center. He gently kissed Nicky’s picture and placed it into his breast pocket then set fire to Tommy’s. As Tommy’s smiling face bubbled, curled and melted in the flames Corbin felt some satisfaction but it wasn’t enough. He would have preferred Tommy’s face actually burning in flames. A sudden knock on his office door snatched him from his thoughts and the door pushed open before he could respond.
“Mister Ramses I presume?” A raspy voice said in the doorway.
“Who’s there?” Corbin looked up.
“Please forgive my intrusion,” the dark figure apologized concealed in the shadows.
“Show yourself!” From where the intruder stood Corbin could not make out their face clearly in the darkness. He switched on his desk lamp and he gasped. “Dear God!”
“I realize that my appearance is a tad bit disturbing, but I assure you that there is no need for alarm. I am not here to harm you. In fact, it is your help that I desperately need.”
“H-how do you know my name? Who sent you?” Corbin asked unable to hide his fear.
“Before I answer any of your questions there’s something I need to know. Do you want retribution for the personal injustice you have endured from the man who I am assuming is in the picture burning before you?” Corbin looked down just in time to see the remainder of Tommy’s mocking smile vanish into a pile of ashes and found himself nodding ‘yes’. “Excellent.” The mysterious figure said and tossed something at Corbin. He caught the key and held it up by the Mercedes Benz emblem. “Let’s talk business.” The twisted voice said as Corbin’s office door closed.
Chapter 19
“Damn, with all that plastic surgery, hair and makeup, I can’t tell if that’s Latoya or Michael.” Tommy laughed commenting on the gloved one’s Bad video.
“See this is why Tito was always my favorite Jackson, cause he keeps it real, big nose, nappy fro and all.” Donnie joked.
“The only Jackson who kept it real was Joe-Dammit Mayhem! Hold still!” Tommy said frustrated with his dog as she moved her head about while he tried to brush her teeth. “You know what? Just forget it. When your teeth fall out it’s your fault!”
Mayhem happily retreated to her water and food bowls licking Colgate from her jaws. Donnie sat regally crossed-legged on the edge of the bed silently dunking Oreo cookies into a glass of milk before stuffing them into her mouth. Ever since Tommy had returned from dropping AJ off at his grandmothers earlier, he was moody and irritable. When he walked in he was so livid after learning the truth about Bug-Out and Laquita that he stomped over to his punching bag and assaulted it for a solid fifteen minutes before he could even speak. After finally recharging his battery with some much-needed rest, she was glad he awoke in a better frame of mind.
Video Music Box ended so Tommy picked up the remote and began absent mindedly channel surfing. “Aids, crack, and Reganomics are devastating Urban America and all Nancy Reagan has the audacity to say is ‘Just Say No’ knowing goddamn well her husband is the reason crack is even in the hood!’ Tommy hissed at the First Lady’s commercial.
“And how’d you come to that conclusion Archie Bunker?” Donnie asked.
“Hell, it ain’t no secret Ronnie and Castro are in bed together. How else could coke come into this country.” Tommy reasoned as he laced up his shell-toed Adidas with fat red and white checkerboard shoelaces then turned to Donnie with his mouth open like a baby bird and she placed a cookie into his mouth. Crunching, he thanked her with a wink and continued flipping then stopped at the Thunder Cats cartoon. “My dude Lion-O! Now we’re talking! Yo babe, you mind if we watch this?”
“Fine by me.” Donnie said and snuggled up beside her man as he exci
tedly rooted like an eight-year-old for the ThunderCats to defeat their nemesis the evil Mumm-Ra.
“That’s right bust his ass Lion-O, handle your business!” the big kid shouted. After a moment passed Donnie looked up at Tommy and inadvertently let out a sigh. “S’matter baby?” Tommy asked.
“Um…” Donnie said then shook her head like she didn’t really have anything to say.
“I hear that ‘um’ is the best way to start a conversation.” Tommy said and kissed her lovingly on the tip off her nose.
The last thing Donnie wanted to do was kill the mood with annoying bothersome questions. But there was something that she had to know. “How long have you been a Trouble Consultant?” she asked.
“Long enough.”
“What’s long enough?”
Tommy stroked his chin, “Long enough that I can distinguish one crew’s secret whistle from another and differentiate the colors of crack capsules sold by rival drug lords. Why?”
“I know you make a lot of money and all but I don’t see how you do it. It’s so dangerous.”
“I think H. Rap Brown said it best, violence is as American as cherry pie,” Tommy smirked but Donnie found nothing to smile about. Tommy muted the volume and turned to his girlfriend, “Okay I admit, Trouble Consulting definitely has its moneymaking highs and violence prone lows. But there are bright sides to being the handyman of the hood. Like that fact that I help a lot of people. And let’s not forget it’s how I met you. Look, crime’s a big business. It’s what makes the world go ‘round. Think about it, if the world were suddenly one big happy place with everybody living harmoniously then more than half the jobs in America would be done away with. All of these idiot Senators sitting in Congress would have nothing to do and everybody from the police to correction officers would be out on their asses. Why do you think building jails takes precedence over building schools? It’s because the powers that be need crime to make money. They need crime to survive. Circle of life baby.” Tommy explained like he taught a course on the subject.
“And what about you? Do you need crime to survive too?” Donnie asked openly.
Tommy thought about it, “Yeah, I guess in a way I do.”
Donnie glanced over at his guns on the nightstand. “Have you ever killed someone?”
“And if I have?” Tommy inquired and got a frustrated sigh and head shake from her as a reply. “Thoughts?”
“I just wonder how it can be right to kill people who kill people, knowing that killing people is wrong?” Tommy, returned her gaze unflinchingly. She was beginning to get too intrusive and personal about stuff that he himself hadn’t fully figured out yet. He scooted toward the edge of the bed and reached for his jacket. Too lazy to roll himself a spliff, he opted for a slightly bent Newport. “I’m sorry. I’m asking way too many questions aren’t I?” she asked regretting the question.
Tommy waved a hand in the air indicating it was alright. “I’ve put countless cats in ICU but never the morgue. I did come close once and lost a lot in the process.”
“What happened?” Donnie asked.
Tommy paused replaying a harsh memory then snapped out of it with a somber look. “Not worth going into. But at the end of the day if it comes down to them or me, I’ll send flowers,”
“Don’t you worry that someone might one day send you flowers?”
“Try not to. But I do sometimes.” He said and looked off in a daze.
“What is it?”
“Your question, it got me to thinking about this consulting gig I did a few years back. On the day this guy proposed to his girlfriend. His side mistress showed up at the restaurant and threw a monkey wrench in his plans. He swore he had no clue who the other woman was but evidently, she knew things only a mistress would. His lady wouldn’t listen and tossed his ring back in his face. But dude wasn’t trying to hear all that jazz. At first he was on some kiddy shit. Crank phone calls in the middle of the night, showing up to her place. Her job. Then he turned up the heat and things got physical. That’s when she called me. I tried talking to him first. Man to man. And call me crazy but I actually believed the guy when he said he was set up and had absolutely no idea who the woman that accused him of having an affair with her was. But by then it really didn’t matter because his girlfriend was back with an ex-boyfriend and he was too far-gone to listen to reason. So, we had to do things the hard way. I’ll give it to him for a chubby guy his knuckle game was fairly decent. But after he got one look at Mayhem he took off running, to the roof. We chased after him, jumping from one ledge to the next. Damn he was fast. Then just when I thought he was going to be the one that got away, he jumped down to an adjacent roof. Or at least what he thought was a roof.” Tommy paused and shook his head at the memory. “I remember it was winter, around this time of the year. But a helluva lot more snow. It covered everything. Cars, mailboxes, fire hydrants and glass skylight ceilings. The poor slob took a nosedive straight through falling at least fifteen feet. Like a safe dropping through a frozen pond. It all went down so fast there was nothing I could do. Blood was everywhere and I’m thinking this poor sap’s lying here half-dead and all he was guilty of was wanting to be with the woman he loved. The threats and intimidation was just a by-product of that love. I called for an ambulance and hung around until they arrived and whisked him away.”
His life sounded unbelievable, so his words at first seemed unbelievable, but Donnie knew Tommy’s statements to be true and it wasn’t because they were tailed by, ‘ask so and so’ or a kiss to his right palm before raising it to swear on everything he loved, but because of the similar situation in her life that he alleviated when no one else could. “So, whatever happened to him?” she asked enthralled by the tale.
“I went my way and they went theirs.” Tommy shrugged and put out his cigarette. “There are a lot of reasons that I chose to become a Trouble Consultant but the main reason is I was afraid of becoming one of those people with predictable lives. Pushing papers all day. Catching the vapors when a rival got that phat promotion I had been kissing ass for. I just couldn’t see it.”
“Well Congratulations. You’ve certainly succeeded there.” Donnie remarked. “But I can identify with not wanting to be predictable. My cousin Kerima in Texas, she’s got two kids, a dog, nice picket fenced home and a practical family car to get around in. To most she is living the ‘American Dream.’ That were me, I’d go crazy in a week!”
“Well I’m with her regarding the dog. But you understand why I do what it is I do.”
“I didn’t say all that. What gets me is this is all you see yourself doing when there’s so much more to you than that.” Donnie said. Tommy glanced over his shoulder at her like he did not have the same confidence that she did. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s true.”
“Oh really? Like?” Tommy asked spinning at her.
“Well you front like you’re this mean, surly, nasty, rude person but in actuality you’re strong, sweet and sensitive.”
“Am not.” Tommy grumbled.
“Oh really? And who was it that cried during E.T.?”
“Hey, you swore you’d take that to the grave!”
“You’re also smart, intelligent, intellectual-but still thuggish in an alluring sort of way. You have this reserved, dignified demeanor that I find sexy as hell. And you can charm the pants off of anyone; I can vouch for that.”
Tommy grinned like the face on a pitcher of Kool-Aid. “You sound like you could go on for days.”
Donnie leaned forward and kissed him softly on the nose. “I could. But that’s because you are more than just, ‘Havoc, the Trouble Consultant.’”
“You sound like my Pops. Whenever an opportunity presents itself he tries to convince me to quit and go back to college or anything else.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“I’m not saying achieving higher learning isn’t important. I’m just saying there’s different kinds of learning. What you learn from
books is one kind of knowledge, but what you learn in the streets is another. And the knowledge it takes to put them together is probably the most valuable lesson you’re ever going to learn. The problem is, they don’t teach a class in that. At least not in any class I ever attended.”
“I think your father’s just worried about his son. So am I.”
“No need. I weight train five to six days a week, plus boxing and firearms and I get paid lovely to defend those who can’t defend themselves. Now back in the day when I was working construction, broke and miserable there was a need to worry. But he’s so determined to get me to quit, he recently offered me my own club to run.”
“Wow that’s great. Are you going to do it?”
Tommy shrugged. “My Pops makes it look easy but trust me it’s not.”
“And what you do is?”
“It makes me mad loot.”
“To paraphrase James Baldwin, ‘Man cannot live by profit alone.”
Tommy sighed. “See, there you go! I told you that you’d be looking to change me.”
“Relax Tommy, I’m not trying to change you. But like your father, I just wanted you to be aware that you have other options.”
“Check you out. Sounding all concerned about my welfare like you we’re in a relationship or something.” Tommy teased.
“Well aren’t we in a relationship?” Donnie asked daring him to say no.
Tommy stared at her taking in her tight posture and glare. “…Yeah, you’re my girl.” He smiled after a pause. If there were any doubts Donnie put them to rest last night when she was there for him. No question she was his lady. “Now I guess it’s my turn to reciprocate some of the qualities that I find attractive about you?”
“It would be nice to hear. But if it’s going to be a big deal then don’t bother.” Donnie said already anticipating he wouldn’t.
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