When It All Falls Down 2 - Strapped Up: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady)

by Tamicka Higgins

  “But now we gotta figure out real shit,” Tramar said. “We gotta get this fuckin’ money and not get caught. What banks we know that we could get in and out of real quick and disappear?”

  “I say we hit some banks downtown,” Jackson said.

  “Why downtown?” Tramar asked, wanting to know Jackson’s logic behind such a scenario.

  “Because the shit is already crowded and confusing,” Jackson said.

  “I see what you mean,” Tramar said. “And we gotta find somewhere to get masks and shit. I ain’t gon’ be one of these stupid niggas you see on television, on the news and shit, who doin’ big time crimes and ain’t even got they faces covered up and shit. We gotta make sure this shit is right.”

  “Rush hour,” Ayana said from the other side of the bed. Within seconds, she could feel Tramar and Jackson’s eyes on her. It was evident that they wanted her to explain. “We run up in that shit during rush hour,” Ayana explained.

  “Why rush hour, though?” Tramar asked. “I mean, baby, that’s just gon’ make it harder for us to get away.”

  “Right, but won’t it also make it harder for the police and shit to catch up?” Ayana asked. “You know how downtown be during the day. Wall-to-wall traffic. Hell, I’ve even been downtown during rush hour and have seen police cars and fire trucks and ambulances stuck in traffic while whatever was happening, wherever, was just happening because, obviously, the traffic stopped them from getting to the scene. I know y’all been in the hood when something went down at a certain hour, and it be takin’ the police forty and fifty minutes to get there, especially when the highway is blocked up.”

  Tramar smiled at Ayana then turned to Jackson. “You know what, nigga?” he said. “She might be on to something. If we rob that shit on foot during rush hour, the police, who be in cars ‘cause they too fuckin’ lazy to patrol by walking on the street, would have a hard time catching us.”

  Jackson nodded, processing it all in his mind as he imagined how such a scenario would play out. “I see what you mean,” he said. “We would just have to make sure we have somewhere that we can run too real quick to get out of dodge when the police do come lookin’ for us and shit.”

  “Right,” Tramar said. “So the bank needs to be somewhere downtown where you can hurry up and run to a factory-like area or something. Really, I like the idea of changing clothes when we get done with the robbery so nobody will think that we the robbers they saw later on that night on the news because when they saw us, we wasn’t wearing the same clothes. Betta yet, I know what we can do.”

  Tramar looked at Ayana and smiled. “What?” Ayana asked, snapping her neck back. “What you lookin’ at me like that for?”

  “We got this money,” Tramar said, reaching under the bed and grabbed the bag. “We can be the first niggas, probably in Chicago history, to run up in a bank and rob it while wearing suits and shit.”

  “You right about that,” Jackson said. “Every time I see them niggas on the TV for robbing somewhere, they always look like some niggas that would rob something. Plus, if we walk up in there in suits, they probably wouldn’t even see it coming.”

  “Exactly,” Tramar said, standing up. “And betta yet,” he looked at Ayana. “If we sent a chick in there first, they really wouldn’t think shit about it. Them white people – the look on they faces.” Tramar shook his head. “We gotta make sure this shit is right and use everything we got to our favor. I ain’t goin’ away for ten years for armed robbery when you can just do the shit right the first time.”

  “I’m with you on that,” Jackson said. “So, we gon’ be three niggas who go up in there in suits and rob the place?”

  As Jackson and Tramar talked more and more about possible ways of going about this to minimize the risk of being caught, Ayana couldn’t help but zone out. Sure, she’d been down for the ride when they first talked about it after getting off of the phone with Byron. However, she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about walking up in the bank herself and doing the robbery. Ayana felt that she needed to say something, but she struggled to push the words out of her mouth. While she truly was ride or die for Tramar, because she knew that he was the same way when it came to her…still, robbing a bank? She’d never even held a gun before.

  “I don’t know if I can do that part,” Ayana said, standing up. She put her hands over her face and began to pace around the room. “I mean, Tramar, I just don’t know. Going into a bank and holding a gun to somebody’s head? I don’t know if I can do that part.”

  Tramar looked at Jackson. He knew he needed to talk to his chick. Quickly, Tramar stood up and walked over to Ayana. He hugged her, wrapping his strong arms around her back. He held her closely. “Baby, I know,” he said.

  “Tramar, I’m all for helping you,” Ayana explained, “but I don’t even know how to use a gun and…I just don’t know.”

  “No, that’s coo,” Tramar said. “I feel you, baby. And if you don’t feel like you can do that part, I understand. It wasn’t set in stone or nothin’. But you know what, though?”

  Ayana pulled her head off of Tramar’s chest and looked up into his eyes. “What?” she said.

  “Me and you, though, would be the perfect couple to walk up in a bank and check that shit out,” Tramar said. He then stepped away from Ayana and looked at Jackson. “I ain’t runnin’ up in no bank that I ain’t even checked out yet to see if it’s the kinda place we need to even be try’na rob. And the sooner we do this shit the better.”

  “Well, what you wanna do, nigga?” Jackson asked, tossing his empty McDonald’s bag and trash across the motel room and into a trashcan by the door. “You want us to get a map of Chicago and shit and put the shit on the wall and plan this shit?”

  There was a long pause where Tramar didn’t answer. Instead, he gripped his chin as he thought. “You know what, nigga,” he said, smiling, realizing that he was willing to do whatever it took to get his father and stepmother back. “If that’s what we gotta do, then that’s what we gotta do. How the fuck you think them white people be gettin’ away with shit like this when they do it but black people don’t be? They actually be pulling out maps and shit and planning it.”

  Jackson stood up, holding his hand out and chuckling. “Hold up, hold up,” Jackson said, shaking his head and trying to comprehend what all was going on. “So, you sayin’ that what you wanna do is have a couple niggas rob a bank, or two, maybe, in Downtown Chicago, during rush hour, while wearing suits, and these two niggas gon’ be getting maps and shit to plan it out?”

  Tramar looked into Jackson’s eyes with a serious face, not saying a word. Several quiet seconds passed before Jackson held up both arms in defeat, sitting back into his chair. “A’ight, nigga,” Jackson said. “Gangsta, I guess I should say. Let’s do that shit. I ain’t never even bought a map, so where we get one of those at?”

  “Nigga, they got them down in the gas stations and shit by the highway, you know?” Tramar said. “In this metal rack things that be by the door or ATM machine as soon as you walk inside.”

  Tramar grabbed a couple of twenties from his money. With Ayana following behind him, the two left Jackson in the room while Tramar rolled to the nearest gas station that sat adjacent to an interstate. Ayana sat in the car, quietly, as she watched Tramar rush inside and come back out with a blunt wrap and a wall map of Chicago and the surrounding area that he’d purchased for eight dollars. Just as Tramar was about to pull off and back out onto the main road, he noticed that Ayana’s disposition was somewhat negative. He stopped before he pulled out of the parking lot and looked over at her, grabbing her thigh.

  “My baby all right?” Tramar asked. “You look like you ain’t sure about this.”

  “I am sure,” Ayana said. “Well, I can’t say that I’m one hundred percent sure about this shit, Tramar. I mean, it ain’t like I done had much experience with robbin’ banks and shit.”

  “Well, shit,” Tramar said. “I ain’t never done this shit, neither. But you hea
rd what that nigga Byron said. We gotta come up with this money, and quick, because you know how banks be having funny hours on the weekends and shit and be all closed and stuff. I don’t see no other way. And I can’t live with knowing that my daddy and stepmother could die because I ain’t even try. Look, I know you worried and shit, but we gon’ plan this shit so we ain’t goin’ into this shit stupid. We not gon’ be like them other niggas you see on the news who just run up in somewhere without no plan and wonder why the shit backfire, and they get caught down the street and stuff.”

  Ayana nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I see what you mean. Let’s just make sure it stays between the three of us. And, sorry, but I can’t go up in there and actually rob the place.”

  “I didn’t want you to, anyway,” Tramar said. “We gon’ walk in the bank and case the place as a couple. We gon’ act like we goin’ in there to open a bank account.”

  “But I don’t know nothin’ about going in no bank and trying to open a bank account,” Ayana said, shaking her head. “I don’t know nothin’ about that.”

  With having somewhat older parents, Tramar knew about banks. He’d had a bank account with Chase Bank since he was eight years old, even though he rarely used it or even checked on it. “I know you don’t,” Tramar said, smiling. He finally pulled out of the gas station parking lot and was heading back to the hotel. “That’s what’s gon’ make this shit even better. You ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong by goin’ up in the bank and talkin’ to them. That’s what’s gon’ make this shit so perfect. Plus, I ain’t want you to go in anyway. Gotta protect you.”

  “Protect me?” Ayana said, snapping her neck back. She giggled. “Boy, boo. You know I’m a bad bitch.”

  Tramar laughed out loud. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “You ain’t never even held a gun, and now you wanna talk about you a bad bitch. Like I said, I gotta protect you. I’m not gon’ let nothin’ happen to you. You gon’ always be safe while we do this while also watchin’ out and bein’ the one to let us know when shit might be getting outta control. Plus, I want you with me when we go up in the bank and check the place out to make sure whatever bank we choose downtown is one that we can get in and out of real quick and get away from the area during rush hour.”

  “Why?” Ayana asked. “Why did you want me to go in with you anyway to look at the place?”

  Tramar looked at Ayana. “Because you’re a woman,” he answered. “You know a man can’t do anything right without a woman by his side. And you smart, so I want you to go in there with me so you can see if I’m missing anything or not.”

  Ayana looked over at Tramar, nodded her head, and smiled. “That’s right,” she said. “It’s good that you men are starting to come around and see that.”

  Tramar shook his head. It was always so amusing the way a woman will gloat when a man praises her for her intelligence. He drove the car back to the motel parking lot, turning into the lot and pulling into the same parking spot outside of his motel room door. As he and Ayana got out of the car and into the sunlight, Tramar couldn’t help but look around. The paranoia had gotten to him. No matter what, he wanted to keep his location a secret this time.

  Tramar and Ayana walked into the motel room, closing the door behind them. With the curtains closed and their voices low, the two of them and Jackson put the map of Chicago up onto a wall, using gum that Ayana had in her purse as the glue. The three of them stood toward the wall, facing the map as Ayana Googled various banks in the downtown area and used a pen to put their locations on the map. Suddenly, things were getting very real.

  Chapter 2

  In many ways, the three of them felt as if they were holding a secret political meeting. At times, Ayana wanted to laugh. The situation – the three of them in a motel room plotting to rob a bank in Downtown Chicago at rush hour – really did seem like something out of a movie. However, while the magical effects of Hollywood can make just about anything look glorious, there were very few points in this particular situation that Ayana could find to be glorious. In fact, she was scared to the depths of her being. Her soul trembled as they spent the next few hours standing in that motel room, looking at that map on the wall. At times, Ayana felt as if she were having a dream. However, it was quickly becoming apparent that they’d been living in a reality she’d never dreamt of before today.

  After they talked for the few hours that early afternoon about the logistics, they headed over to the mall. Inside, there was a Macy’s where the three of them could get their clothing for when they went into the bank and for when they robbed the bank. The plan was, as of right now, to buy this clothing and get rid of every piece of it as soon as they’d finished with the bank and had gotten the money. They didn’t want any of the clothing to be found that they’d used to either check the banks out or actually rob them, which they planned on doing Friday evening. Chicago was too big of a city for them to not be able to find some way of getting rid of these clothes.

  Ayana bought a Burberry London suit, trying it on in the fitting room in the women’s section. When she’d come out to let Tramar, and Jackson, if he was around, see it, she strutted. It was a five hundred dollar, green pants suit. She’d picked out some cute, white Versace shoes to go along with the outfit. She felt so professional as she walked out into the light of the store floor. Tramar smiled, telling her that the suit would be perfect. He’d picked out a black business suit, which had reminded all of them of the suits they’d seen FBI agents wear in movies and television shows. Jackson, on the other hand, went for something a little more somber. His Ralph Lauren suit was gray. Unlike Tramar, he would not be wearing a tie; rather, he’d have his chest out, very similar to what he’d seen a lot of Latin American men do in the Colombian films he’d watched with his cousins when they were growing up.

  The three of them took their clothes up to the counter, set them down and paid for them. It was a little strange, admittedly, for the three of them to be purchasing such expensive clothing. They felt, even though they did not say anything to one another, that the Macy’s employees behind the counter found it strange these young black people were buying such expensive suits. In fact, the woman who had rung them up for the suits at the cash register asked what the special occasion was for buying such fashionable, in her words, suits. Before Jackson and Tramar could try to say something totally different at the same time, Ayana cut in and smiled, telling the lady that they were going to a wedding.

  As the three of them rolled up the highway in Jackson’s car, Ayana looked out at the cityscape. Normally, no matter where she’d been coming from, Downtown Chicago was several minutes away. Today, however, time flew. The sky was clear and the police were out in full effect. Each and every time Ayana’s eyes met with the red and blue police lights atop the vehicle, she thought about what it would be like to be sitting in the back of one – sitting in the back of one for armed robbery, specifically. The very thought of going to prison, should they get caught, sent chills through her body. But she looked over at Tramar and knew that there simply was no turning back. There was no doubt in her mind that if it had been her family that had been kidnapped by this Byron guy, Tramar would be on the scene and ready to jump into action in a heartbeat, no matter what possible consequences could come as a result of his actions.

  Jackson drove into downtown and exited I-94 at Washington Boulevard. As they pulled up to a stoplight, Jackson looked in his rearview mirror at Tramar and Ayana, sitting next to one another in the back seat. “Y’all sure y’all ready for this shit?” he asked.

  The two of them nodded their heads. Tramar nodded. “So, nigga, where is it lookin’ like we can park?”

  As Jackson rolled through the stoplight, they came up to a parking lot where it cost thirty dollars a day to park. At first, he was going to ride by it. However, he then realized that whatever they needed to come off of in terms of money would have to work. He pulled into the lot, paid the thirty dollars, and pulled into a parking spot. Jackson turned around and looked at Tramar a
nd Ayana. “So, which one is we gon’ look at first?” he asked, referring to the banks. “We done chose two banks, maybe three, that got the perfect locations downtown to where we could dis-a-fuckin-pear and nobody know where we went, right? Which one y’all wanna walk to first? And why we not drivin’ to them with me droppin’ y’all niggas off? Explain that to me again.”

  “‘Cause, nigga,” Tramar said, shaking his head. “Because we don’t need either of our fuckin’ cars on tape so in case they do find something, they ain’t got more to work with. We bout to walk, zigzagging through these streets downtown and shit so much that they not gon’ be able to get all of the cameras together should they even want to go that far with trying to find us niggas. We gotta be fuckin’ invisible and smooth with this shit, and they don’t need to be able to look on the bank cameras and shit, ‘cause you know they do, and see your fuckin’ car. We need to be as un-traceable as possible. Ain’t none of us in the system, that I know of, right?”

  Ayana and Jackson shook their heads simultaneously.

  “And I wanna keep it that way,” Tramar said. He picked Jackson’s bag up and handed it to him. Since Tramar and Ayana were already wearing bland, nondescript pants, the three of them had decided that these two would just change their shirts to walk into the banks. The plan was that they’d pretend to be interested in opening an account. Tramar only hoped that it would work, and that they’d talk to him without he or Ayana having to hand over any sort of ID.

  “I feel you,” Jackson said, turning around. “So, I guess while the husband and wife go and check the shit out, I just gotta sit in the car and shit.”

  “Naw, nigga,” Tramar explained. “Be out walking around, lookin’ and shit and seeing where we all could duck away when the scene is hot tomorrow afternoon. That’s all you gotta do. You ain’t even gotta talk to nobody. Just walk around and see what buildings are maybe vacant that we could duck into. Look around and see what ideas you get.”