by Joy
“This shit right here is the muthafuckin’ life,” Ral said as he put the needle down on the sink and allowed his head to fall back. After only a few seconds he could barely keep his eyelids open. His mouth hung open as he began to moan at the almost immediate sensation of the high and the nut that erupted down the chick’s throat.
“Now give me some, baby,” the girl begged. “Now give me some blow, baby.”
The girl wiped her mouth of any of Ral’s cum that had managed to escape and removed the rubber band like object from around Ral’s arm. She then placed it on her own arm. She picked up the needle from the sink that Ral had placed there and prepared the meal for her veins.
“Kick mud, ho,” Tommy said, as she and Dollar entered the cracked door.
The girl was in a trance as she flushed her veins with poison. Just then Tommy and Dollar realized that Ral was sitting on the toilet with his limp dick hanging out of his pants.
“You want some too?” the girl said to Tommy, extending the needle to her.
“Hell naw! I don’t fuck wit’ no drugs,” Tommy replied.
“No, baby, I mean do you want some of this here?” The girl pulled up her cheetah-print mini tube dress, lifted her leg, and allowed her nicely trimmed triangle to show. “You can get up in this hole for some blow. I do whatever you want me to: ’round the world, golden shower; you can even shit on me as long as you ain’t got the runs. I’ll fuck your friend too. It’s good. You won’t be sorry. Ask Ral here.”
The girl winked at Tommy as she let the needle drop on the floor. She placed herself in a straddling position on top of Ral and began to laugh as if she was watching Richard Pryor’s Live on Sunset Strip.
Beyond the point of disgust, Tommy grabbed the girl by her hair and yanked her from off of Ral. The girl began to scream and attempt to escape Tommy’s clutch.
“Look here, Little Red Riding Every Dick in the Hood. If I ever see you around my boy again, you gon’ be wearing your nipples as earrings. Pass it on to your other trick-ass friends.” Tommy turned the girl loose and flexed on her, daring her to try something stupid.
It wasn’t that serious as far as the chick was concerned. She straightened up her dress and went on her way. She brushed by Dollar, but not without him getting a free feel of her fat ass.
“What the fuck you doing?” Dollar asked, turning his attention to Ral.
“Nothing, now that you two cock-blockers are here,” Ral replied.
“I’m serious, man,” Dollar said. “Is this what you doing with your loot? Is this what you call your muthafuckin’ come up?”
“I was trying to get up and cum, but you two fools—” Ral attempted to joke before Dollar grabbed him by his throat.
“You think I’m playing? You think this shit is a game?” Dollar shouted as Ral began to turn blue.
“Yo, D, let him go, man,” Tommy said as Ral began his attempt to peel Dollar’s fingers from around his neck.
“All those years of dreaming on the playground. We finally get just a little bit of loot and this is what you do with it,” Dollar said becoming emotional. “Man, don’t you want shit out of life? Or do you wanna end up like your mother?”
Suddenly Ral found the strength to escape Dollar’s clutch. He tried his damnedest to take Dollar on but his little ass was no match. They tussled until Tommy managed to pull them apart.
“Don’t ever talk at me about my mama!” Ral shouted.
“Will you two fuckin’ stop,” Tommy said. “You supposed to be boys. This is bullshit!” Tommy’s eyes welled up with tears. Her frozen spirit wouldn’t allow her to cry in front of anyone. She angrily pushed Dollar and Ral and stormed out of the bathroom.
Ral and Dollar remained in the bathroom breathing heavily from the energy they had used up tussling with one another. Finally Dollar spoke. “I’m sorry I talked about your moms, man,” Dollar said, holding out his hand in apology.
“It’s cool,” Ral said, shaking his hand.
Dollar pulled Ral toward him and hugged him. He then pulled away. “Let me know now if this is the life you want,” Dollar said. “Tommy and I are putting our lives on the line to get out of the muthafuckin’ projects. We don’t want to have to leave you behind, man. But if this is where you want to be, just say the word. If we know to expect this shit, then it won’t be as disappointing.”
“I want shit, man,” Ral said, getting choked up. “I want out too. I want out too.”
“Then the drugs, the hoes, man, you got to give it up,” Dollar said.
“It ain’t that easy, Dollar, man,” Ral said, putting his head down.
“Shit ain’t never been easy, but we’ve managed to overcome it, right?”
Ral nodded his head in the affirmative.
“Come on, let’s go find T,” Dollar said.
Dollar and Ral found Tommy waiting outside for them in her car. Dollar got in the front seat and Ral got in the back seat. None of them spoke a single word. Dollar put his hand on Tommy’s knee. She tried to ignore him, but no woman, not even Tommy, could ignore Dollar’s touch.
Tommy sighed and looked up into Dollar’s radiant brown eyes. Still, no words were spoken. None had to be. Their eyes said it all.
Just as easy as the money came, it was going. The three couldn’t resist spoiling themselves with some name-brand fancies such as shoes, clothing, and jewels. FUBU, Gucci, Lugz, and Figaro became necessities.
Before Dollar could start working on setting up their next job, the police were beginning to link the trio to the killings in Columbus. Eyewitnesses reported seeing the rental car leaving the scene of the crime. The plates were traced back to Budget Car Rental, where the vehicle had been borrowed.
A couple of detectives made their way to Indiana to question Bubbles, the girl who rented the car from Budget for Dollar. They shook her up so bad, threatening to charge her as an accessory and put her daughter in a foster home, that she gave them everything on Dollar except his blood type.
When the detectives arrived at Dollar’s mother’s apartment, she told them that her son was at work. She told them that they would be wasting their time with any questions they might have had for him because her son was a good child and didn’t even as much as hang out with the wrong crowd.
The detectives waited outside the apartment in an unmarked car until they spotted Dollar walking up the porch. Dollar never saw the detectives approaching him.
“Dareese,” one of the detectives said to Dollar. “Are you Dareese Blake?”
“Yes, uhh, no, uhh,” Dollar stuttered. His smooth, suave stance must have only worked when dealing with females.
“Are you Mr. Dareese Ramelle Blake?” the second detective asked. “Aka Dollar Bill!”
“I’m Dollar,” Dollar replied.
“We need you to come with us. We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding a robbery and triple homicide.”
The detectives might as well have punched Dollar in the gut. A sharp pain darted through the pit of his belly. Dollar’s head began to spin. He was dizzy to the point of fainting. There had to be some mistake. No way was this shit about Cartel and his boys. What did anybody care about some low-life criminals? No, this had to be about something else, some local shit. Yeah, it had to be. He hadn’t been involved in anything local. He’d made it a point not to be, so he had nothing to worry about. He just needed to stay cool and calm.
“Will you come with us, please?” the detective asked Dollar.
As Dollar’s eyeballs floated about the sockets, for a split second he thought about running. Did he have the strength? Where would he run to? Where would he hide?
“Dareese, Dareese,” Dollar’s mother began to shout from their living room window.
Dollar turned and looked at his mother in the eyes. It was as if her worst nightmare was manifesting right in front of her eyes. Dollar refused to make it worse by attempting to run and forcing his mother to see him get shot in the back and die right before her eyes. That would be the final straw for
her. That would be the death of her for sure.
By this time, one of the detectives had sensed Dollar’s temptation, pulled his gun out and placed it hard against Dollar’s back.
“Go for it,” the detective threatened Dollar. “I dare you to try to run. Every time your mother comes outside, do you really want her to see her son’s blood stains in the cement until the rain washes it away? Go for it!”
Dollar took in a deep breath and then exhaled. “It’s okay, Mama,” Dollar said. “It’s nothing, Ma. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“Dareese, baby, what’s going on? Klein, Klein,” Dollar’s mother began to call to Klein who had been in the bedroom studying.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” Dollar could hear Klein asking. Shortly thereafter, Klein’s head peeked through the window. “Dollar, Dollar,” Klein shouted.
“It’s okay, man,” Dollar replied. “You take care of Ma. I’ll be home soon.”
“Dollar, Dollar!” Klein continued to shout. “What’s going on, man? Where they taking you? Please, Dollar. Please don’t leave us. Don’t you leave us too.”
Dollar could hear Klein’s voice cracking. It was breaking his heart. He wanted to break down right then and there, but he had to pull himself together.
“Who does the King of Diamonds represent?” Dollar said to Klein.
“What?” Klein asked as tears ran down his face.
“In a deck of playing cards, who does the King of Diamonds represent?”
“Man, I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do! Yes you do,” Dollar insisted. “I got twenty-five dollars for you when I get back. Who does the King of Diamonds represent?”
“Julius Caesar,” Klein said as he began holding his mother to comfort her. “The King of Diamonds in a deck of playing cards represents Julius Caesar.”
The detectives cuffed Dollar’s hands behind his back and began to read him his rights. They pushed and shoved him over to their car. Dollar was scared, but he wasn’t going to let it show. He sucked it up and allowed the detectives to throw him into the back of the car.
The engine started and Dollar wanted so badly to look back up at his mother and brother who were broken up as they watched him from their apartment window. The car rode off. Even though it could have very well been the last time Dollar ever saw his mother and little brother again, he didn’t look back at them. He didn’t look back.
Dollar spent a total of fourteen hours and thirteen minutes being interrogated by the detectives. They asked him the same questions over and over again, sometimes switching words around in an attempt to catch him in a lie. Dollar stuck to yes and no answers. He didn’t offer anything extra, which pissed the detectives off.
In the meantime, Dollar’s fingerprints were being matched to those found on the cell phones in Woody’s Garage. Once the detectives informed Dollar of this major piece of evidence, it was time for Dollar to start talking.
The detective suspected that Dollar hadn’t pulled off the robbery and killings solo. No way did some young punk with no street respect take Cartel and two of his dudes down alone. The detectives wanted the names of Dollar’s accomplices. If Dollar didn’t tell, he would go down, taking all the heat alone for a triple homicide. He would very well spend the rest of his life in jail. If Dollar did give up the name of the triggerman and any other accomplices, he would go down as an accessory and walk away with a smack on the wrist as a first-time offender; that was the deal.
Although Tommy was the one who actually pulled the trigger, Dollar still knew that Ral would go down hard as well. Unlike Dollar, Ral wasn’t in a position to be making any type of deal for himself. He had several strikes on his record that would guarantee him time in the slammer.
To Dollar, it didn’t make sense for all three of them to go down. Besides, he couldn’t see himself snitching on his partners and he especially couldn’t picture Tommy spending the rest of her life in prison. He knew, without a mustard seed of doubt, that if the shoe were on the other foot, both Tommy and Ral would do the same for him.
Dollar had learned quite a few things about hustling. No matter the nature of the hustle, every hustle has the same rules. One can only get down with people whom they have 100 percent trust in. The clique had to be willing to die for the hustle, do time for the hustle, and Dollar was willing to do just that.
CHAPTER 3
Murder Was the Case
Dollar couldn’t look at his mother after initially seeing her as he entered the courtroom in his jailhouse garb. When he first set eyes on her, she smiled at him. Her smile had always been a comfort to Dollar. Like the time he had a solo in the school Thanksgiving program. Dollar was so nervous as he stood on the stage. But when he looked out into the audience and saw his mother smiling at him, he knew that everything was going to be okay. That day, Dollar had a feeling that his mother’s smile wasn’t going to make everything okay.
Dollar’s mother’s smile quickly faded as tears began to fall from her eyes. Auntie Charlene sat next to her, hugging and comforting her as she wept endlessly. Dollar could see by the harsh look his Auntie Charlene was giving him that if by chance he did get set free, she was going to tear him a new hide no matter how big he was.
Dollar had to start thinking about things like sunshine and penny candy to keep from breaking down at the sight of his heartbroken mother. He had feared this day for the past few months that he had been in custody. Being charged with a triple homicide, bail wasn’t an option for Dollar, so all he had was time in his jail cell to think about this day.
Dollar had failed his mother. He could only imagine the pain it was bringing to her. It was far worse than that D he’d gotten in Spanish when he was in the ninth grade. It didn’t compare to the time he drank the last two cans of soda from the fridge and swore on Grandma Davis’s grave that he hadn’t done it. It was the type of failure that was an entire flight of steps up from telling a mother that her early teen child was about to become a parent.
If only it was as simple as Dollar impregnating some fast-ass chick from the block. Being incarcerated is the ultimate reflection of bad parenting to any mother. Dollar knew the years of his mother working so hard, even to the point where she lost a leg, were now proven to be in vain.
Dollar’s mind was instantly taken over by the vision of Tommy sitting in the front row behind the defense table. “What is she doing here?” Dollar said under his breath. Tommy could read his mind as she quickly stole a glance at Dollar’s expression and put her head down in disobedience.
Dollar made himself clear when he put the word out that Tommy and Ral were to lay low. Dollar had psyched himself up to take the fall alone. He’d feared that Tommy’s female characteristics would deliver her to the Franklin County Courthouse in Columbus, Ohio on the day he was to enter his plea. Now there she sat.
Dollar stared Tommy down as he walked to his chair at the defense table. He knew she had to lift her head sooner or later, and just as soon as she did, Dollar’s eyes would be pinned on her.
“Don’t do it,” Dollar lipped to Tommy while shaking his head in the negative. “Don’t do it.” He could hear his heart beating as he just thought about Tommy being all dramatic and just as they were sentencing him, she’d jump up and confess her guilt.
Just then the judge entered the courtroom.
“All rise,” the bailiff ordered.
The gallery stood up.
In Dollar’s eyes, the man appeared to be moving in slow motion. He was the Grim Reaper in the flesh. This robed man held Dollar’s fate in the palm of his hand and on the tip of his gavel. He would dictate the outcome of the robbery gone bad. Dollar’s life, if there was to be any more to his life, was in the judge’s hands.
As the judge began to read aloud all the specifics of the case, Dollar’s body became ice cold. The judge’s lips were moving, but Dollar couldn’t hear a word he was saying. He was zoned.
“Dareese Ramelle Blake,” the judge addressed Dollar. “You have been charged with thr
ee counts of murder in the first degree. How do you plead?”
The courtroom filled with the sound of Dollar’s heartbeat. The floor flooded with his pouring sweat. The time was now. If Dollar was going to vacate his commitment to the hustle then this would be his last chance.
“Your Honor.” Dollar gulped. “I plead—”
Just then Tommy stood up. Before she could say anything Dollar’s mother began to cry out. “My baby,” Dollar’s mother yelled. “I know my baby. He couldn’t kill anybody. Please have mercy.”
“Order!” the judge shouted. “Order in the courtroom.”
Dollar turned to see his auntie Charlene caressing his mother. He wanted so badly to let his mother know that her labor was not in vain, that her firstborn son, although was capable of murder, was not a murderer.
“Is there a problem, young man?” the judge said to Tommy, who was still standing, mistaking her for a man. “And please remove your cap.”
This was the moment of truth. If Tommy was going to save Dollar from spending the rest of his life in prison for a crime that she had committed, then she had to speak up now.
Tommy removed her ball cap, balled it up, and stuffed it into the pocket of her oversized White Sox jacket. She and Dollar stared down one another like cowboys at a high noon shootout. In this case, though, no matter who let off the first round and no matter who was left standing, there would be no victor.
Tommy took a deep breath and spoke, “No, Your Honor. There’s no problem.”
Tommy quickly walked down the aisle way to the exit door. The door closed slowly on its hinges until she could feel it hit her back. As Tommy stood there while her eyes welled with tears, she heard Dollar’s voice speak the words, “Guilty, Your Honor.” Dollar confirmed, “I plead guilty.”
“Yo, Dollar Bill,” Ed, the coolest CO in the joint, shouted to Dollar. “She’s back, man. What to do?”
