The White House

by JaQuavis Coleman

  “June! Come up quick!” she yelled in excitement. She had prayed to God for months for that particular letter and He had finally answered. June had been accepted to the college of his dreams and Draya felt a sense of deep accomplishment. Although they struggled and had gone through the loss of both parents, she had helped raise a pretty decent young man. He sold dope but he was a prisoner of circumstance. Yet through all his street dealings, he never missed one day of school and for that Draya felt proud. She was filled with joy, though the feeling quickly left as she thought about the tuition—the tuition they couldn’t afford. Although June had been accepted, his 2.8 grade point average didn’t warrant him any scholarships.

  Draya heard the sound of the door opening and in walked June with his friend Blink, a kid about two years older than her brother. They were best friends and Blink had been responsible for introducing June to the drug game. Blink was small-time but everyone in the hood knew he was going to be the next big thing there—he had a boss mentality. June rushed in and began looking for the envelope. When Draya handed it to him, he quickly read it and gave her a half smile.

  “This is cool, but how are we going to pay for it?” June asked. He had already made up his mind to go full-fledged into the drug game. The way he saw it, not going to school would give him more time to grind in the streets. By hook or crook, he was determined to come up.

  “Well, you don’t worry about that. You just prepare for this summer. You will be an official Michigan Wolverine. Trust that,” Draya said as she put on a fake smile.

  “I don’t know how we going to do that,” June replied. “All these jobs paying minimum wage and moving these eight balls ain’t no real money.”

  “We need to hit a lick. Rob a plug a’ something,” Blink said, injecting himself into their conversation. He stepped forward with his hands in his pockets, a toothpick dangling from the left side of his mouth.

  Draya looked at the kid in disgust, but then she began to think about what he had said. Flashes of Mr. Harris stuffing money into the secret compartment behind the painting popped into her head. And she remembered Mrs. Harris mentioning that they were going out of town for a week. Maybe all the stars were aligning for her to hit that lick. She knew Blink’s grimy ass would be down for the caper and Lord knows she needed the money. In those brief moments, she was already putting the play together in her mind. Nevertheless, she kept her thoughts to herself and snatched the letter back from June.

  “I’ma get it,” Draya stated as the wheels in her cluttered mind began to turn.

  Chapter Two

  Sounds of plates clinking and the ancient heating system filled the air. The small diner was dimly lit and the smell of fresh eggs and bacon flowed throughout the joint.

  Draya, with her ponytail pulled neatly back and pearl earrings in her ears, was once again going through the motions, trying to get through her shift. As she wiped a table, the only thing she could think about was the stacks of opportunity she had seen Mr. Harris stuffing in his safe. She thought about the tuition that June would have to pay if he attended Michigan. She knew deep in her heart that if he stayed home and went to a community college, his chances of graduating would decrease. The environment that the city of Detroit offered would consume him.

  Blink’s words stuck in her head and she was truly thinking about setting the whole thing up. As her mind raced, she saw a familiar face walking in. He was about six two, brown skin, with a medium build. He wore a leather bomber jacket and a Gucci scarf was neatly wrapped around his neck. Crisp jeans and large Timberland boots made the outfit complete. Draya instantly grew nervous, as she always did when he walked in. His stride was unique and it seemed like he was marching to the beat of his own drum. His freshly cut Caesar and crisp black goatee enhanced his nearly perfect face. The only flaw was the healed three-inch cut along his jawline. The man sat in the back corner of the diner as he always did, and from across the room he locked eyes with Draya. She couldn’t help but crack a smile, showing her pearly whites. It was her favorite customer.

  She walked over to him with a menu in her hand, gently placed it in front of him, and pulled out her pad to take his order.

  “Good morning,” he said smoothly.

  “Good morning, Cassidy,” she replied as a big smile involuntarily crept onto her face.

  “Why do you always call me by my full name? It’s Cass,” he said with a smirk and warm eyes.

  “Well, I like Cassidy better. Now, what can I get you this morning?”

  “I’ve been coming to this same diner at the same time for about . . . a good year. And you don’t know what I want?” he asked as he slowly slid the menu back toward Draya.

  “Eggs over easy, turkey sausage, and . . . Texas toast?”

  “Bingo.” He peeled off his coat and displayed a gold necklace with a diamond-encrusted Jesus piece hanging from it. They both shared a laugh and Draya started back to the kitchen when she felt a strong hand grab her wrist.

  “Why do we play this game?” Cass asked.

  “What game?” Draya countered, smiling from ear to ear.

  “I’ve been coming here for a long time and we never get past this little exchange. I am feeling you and I know you feeling me. It’s obvious, to say the least,” Cass said with a charming, piercing stare.

  “I’m feeling you?” Draya placed her hands on her hips. “How are you so sure?”

  “Because you smile and turn red every time I come in here.”

  As if on cue, Draya’s cheeks turned red. “Seems like you got it backward. You make sure you always sit in my section when you come in. If you ask me, I’d say you was chasing me,” she shot back.

  “Okay, you got me. I am chasing you. Let’s stop playing . . . let me take you out sometime.”

  “I have been waiting for you to ask me that for a long time,” Draya admitted as she smiled again and walked away.

  Cass watched her waist sway from side to side. Her plump ass cheeks filled out her skirt and her large, thick legs were shining. Cass loved what he was seeing and was looking forward to learning more about this woman who he had been eyeing for months.

  * * *

  The sun was just coming up and Draya had one foot out the front door of the diner when she heard a horn beep. She shot her head in the direction of the pearl-white Range Rover parked to her left. She smiled: Cass had come back for her. She had given him her number a few hours before and told him what time she got off.

  “What are you doing here?” Draya asked, grinning as she walked toward the truck.

  “I couldn’t wait. I wanted to kick it with you. Can I take you home?” Cass asked.

  “Sure.” She ducked her head into her collar to avoid the windchill, then walked over and jumped in the vehicle. “So, Mr. Cassidy, I never see you around here except for in the diner. Are you from here?”

  Gripping the wood-grain steering wheel, Cass glanced over at Draya. “Nah, I’m from Cleveland. I just come here once a month to check on my uncle.”

  “You check on him the first of every month, huh?”

  “I never miss. He practically raised me. Never had a father so he stepped in, feel me?” He rubbed his goatee with his free hand. “He’s the only family I have left.”

  “You’re a good nephew,” Draya said. She felt cozy in his car but butterflies formed in her stomach as she tried to remain cool. She peered over at him and observed the way his jawline showed when he bit down on his teeth. He gave her a smile and pulled off.

  Cass took her home and they sat in the parking lot for two hours . . . just talking about life. Draya was really feeling this mystery man named Cass. He had a sexy mystique and she was getting a good feeling about him. He was a great listener and seemed caring, but most of all . . . he was gangster. Draya was intrigued.

  * * *

  As Cass cruised the Detroit streets he smiled, thinking about how he was feeling Draya. He wondered what it would feel like to make love to her. Her body was enticing and she had such a p
retty face. He quickly shook off the thought and got back to business. He had vowed to never get involved with any chick from Detroit. To him this trip was always about business. He only came to Detroit to get the shipment from his heroin connect. His uncle was his plug—the man was an underground legend in the city. Unstepped-on dog food, straight off the banana boat.

  Every first of the month, Cass would come to the city and pay his uncle back for the previous shipment and pick up the new joints. It was a flawless system that they had going on. Cass was stationed in the next state over, in Cleveland, Ohio. He supplied the whole city and had a good operation set up.

  Cass pulled onto Jefferson Avenue to one of his main trap spots in the city. It was a small house in the middle of a fairly quiet neighborhood. There were bars on each window and cameras at the front and the rear of the place. Cass’s uncle had the local police wrapped around his finger, so the house was secured and free to operate. The only people Cass and his crew ever feared were the feds or stickup kids.

  He hopped out and headed to the door, which had a steel gate on the front. Cass tapped in a rhythmic pattern to tell the patrons it was a known visitor. Seconds later, the door opened and a tall, dark brolic man appeared. He had a full beard, a nice neat cut, and an ice-cold stare, but he quickly smiled when he saw who stood in front of him.

  “Cass, my nigga,” the man said as he slapped palms with him.

  As they moved into the midsize house, the smell of cooked crack filled the air and the latest Mobb Deep song pumped out of large speakers. This particular place was a half-and-half house, meaning you could buy crack or heroin. Cass looked around and smiled. Five young women sat at a table preparing the goods for sale. A girl stood in front of the stove working two pots, waiting for the powder coke to turn into crack rock, with a little help from baking soda. The operation was smooth and booming. Cass rubbed his hands together and nodded his head in approval. Not one girl looked at him or acknowledged that he had entered the room. He loved it. They were focused and straight about the business. He turned back to the man who had opened the door, still nodding his head in approval.

  “You got this mu’fucka pumping, Gee,” Cass said. This was his head street general and as solid as they came. He had been working the city for Cass for years and was making a lot of money for himself too.

  “No doubt,” Gee replied, glancing at the girls and nodding his head as well. Besides Cass’s uncle, who had been an important figure in the streets of Detroit for years, Gee was the only person he dealt with directly. Cass was like a ghost in Detroit. Niggas within the city knew it was an out-of-towner coming in and flooding the streets, but no one knew who he was. Cass wouldn’t have it any other way. He came to town once a month, dropped the bag off, collected his money from the previous trip, and left. The perfect hustle.

  Cass motioned for Gee to follow him. He maneuvered through the front room and ended up in the back. As soon as they walked in, the smell of weed hit Cass’s nose, and he heard money running through a machine. He saw a tableful of cash and three handguns on top of it. He looked at the two young boys who were smoking while doing the count-up. Gee whistled to get the young boys’ attention. When they looked up at him, he threw his head toward the door. Immediately they rose up and walked out, giving he and Cass privacy to handle business.

  “So, how we looking this month?” Cass asked as he sat down at the table of money.

  “We right on point. We almost out of the last joints. Those were a good batch, man. The ones with the scorpion stamp on them were pure as fuck,” Gee answered, referring to the new fishscale cocaine that Cass had hit him with. Cass’s uncle had a new supplier and the dope was so pure you could cut it three times and still have a strong product. It had the whole city on fire. They had finally got the pure shit in.

  “Yeah, those scorpion joints are official. I’ll tell Unc to keep those coming,” Cass assured Gee, smiling slightly.

  Gee smiled as well and went to the six-foot-tall safe that sat in the corner of the room. He put in a combination and the box opened, revealing a couple of stacked, plastic-wrapped squares with scorpion stamps in the middle of them. He reached in and grabbed a black book bag which contained about a quarter of a million dollars.

  Just like every month, Cass would go visit his uncle and then head back home. Everything was always the same . . . But on this trip, he had more than business on his mind. He was still thinking about Draya.

  He decided to stick around for a few more days. Maybe he could “bump into” Draya again. He smiled thinking about getting with her. There was something about her . . .

  Chapter Three

  Draya stared out of the window as she rode the transit bus through the streets of Detroit. The possibility of getting the money for her brother’s tuition weighed heavy on her shoulders. She had lost so many loved ones to the streets—to drug addiction, prison, and death—and she was afraid for June. She had been strong and in control for so long, so now that she was helpless, it tugged at her heart heavily. She was never the grimy type but the images of Mr. Harris stuffing that safe wouldn’t leave her brain.

  Maybe I should take that money. I need it more than him and I’m sure he has plenty more where that came from. But how would she do it? That was the million-dollar question. She thought about all the cameras they had around the house. It would be almost impossible to take the money without incriminating herself. If Mr. Harris was a street cat, Draya would not think about taking it, for fear of the consequences. But the man was a square and the only thing he would do is call the police. Plus, she was sure he had insurance so it wouldn’t hurt him. Those damn cameras are everywhere except the bathrooms, she thought as the bus pulled up to her stop.

  She quickly shook off the notion and began to prepare for her overnight shift. Although she desperately wanted to get the money, it seemed impossible that she could get away with it. Draya stepped off the bus in front of the diner. When she walked in, the first person she saw was Cass. He was speaking with her manager toward the back of the diner. Draya wondered what were they talking about, but she would soon find out.

  Silvia, a petite Mexican girl who also worked there, walked up to Draya with a grin. “You are one lucky girl,” she whispered, carrying plates in both hands, and whisked right past her.

  “What?” Draya replied. She focused back on Cass and her manager. She saw Cass slip something into the man’s apron and then shake his hand. Cass turned and looked at Draya. Cass gave a rare smile and headed toward her.

  “What’s going on?” Draya asked, confused but half smiling.

  “Come on, Ma. You going with me,” Cass said slyly as he stood right in front of her. The fresh smell of cologne came off his garments, and his crisp goatee and jet-black Caesar instantly turned Draya on. Cass was all man . . . and everybody knew it.

  “But I have to work.” Draya started blushing heavily. All the other waitresses were looking at them. Half of them seemed happy for her and the other half were turning up their noses in spite.

  “Nah, me and Hector have an understanding,” Cass said. What Draya didn’t know is that Hector had been on his uncle’s payroll for years and that this very diner was a stash spot for their drug business. In fact, his uncle owned the place. Cass had also blessed Hector with two thousand dollars just for letting Draya take the night off.

  Cass brushed past her and quietly whispered in her ear, “You coming or what?” Draya smiled broadly and looked over at Hector. Her manager nodded, giving her the go-ahead. Draya slowly shook her head in disbelief, feeling like a real-life Cinderella. Cass had pulled a boss-move and she was speechless. The only sound that escaped her lips was a nervous chuckle. Cass exited the diner and Draya wasn’t far behind.

  * * *

  “Wow, this is beautiful,” Draya said as she cuddled beside Cass while they watched the fire dance inside the massive fireplace.

  He had driven her about three hours north of Detroit and they were staying in one of his uncle’s cabins for
the night. The wooden masterpiece was unlike anything Draya had ever seen. As soon as she stepped inside the cabin, the smell of pinewood invaded her nostrils and the shiny wooden floors amazed her. Draya was so impressed by the sexy rustic setting. It was spacious and seemed a world away from Detroit. Cass felt joy in seeing her react like a little child at a museum. He knew for sure at that moment that he wanted her.

  Hours later they were settled on a bearskin rug about a foot from the gigantic fireplace. Draya was really feeling Cass. They talked and laughed, debating things like who was the best rapper, Jay-Z or Nas. It seemed as if they had known each other for years and everything flowed so naturally. They sipped champagne and shared a small joint of the finest California weed.

  “What are your plans for life?” Cass asked as he puffed on the joint and passed it to her.

  “My plans? What do you mean?” She took a puff of the joint before handing it back to Cass.

  “Like, what is the one thing you want? What’s your dream? Everybody has a dream.”

  Draya noticed that he looked at her different than other guys. It seemed as if he was looking into her soul rather than at her. “Uhm . . .” She tapped her cheek and peered up as if she was in deep thought. “Oh, I know!” she finally said.

  “Okay, what is it?” Cass took another deep puff of the slow-burning joint.

  “I want to open my own diner,” Draya said, slightly embarrassed by her small goal.

  “A diner? That’s dope. I can see you running a spot.”

  “Fa real?”

  “Fa real, fa real,” he said smoothly, holding the smoke in his lungs. He threw what was left of the joint into the fire.

  “I never did anything like this before,” Draya said, glancing up at Cass who was now downing the last of the champagne from the bottle.

  “Like what?”

  “Like this, ya know.” Draya sat up and gazed deep into Cass’s eyes. “No one has ever treated me this nice.”

  “Well, I’m not everyone else. I’m Cassidy Long,” he said confidently.