Ayana thought back to last night’s conversation, where the three of them had gone over the plan as they stood in front of the map of Chicago on the motel room wall. “Yeah,” she said. “I know. I just hope we ain’t gotta do that.”
“You and me both,” Tramar said. “But, shit, I’mma do whatever I gotta do so that I can get my family and shit back. After this, I swear to God I’mma…I’mma…” He looked around, wanting to be careful of what words he used with the number of older white people sitting at nearby tables. “I’mma handle it so we ain’t got to worry about this shit, again. I don’t care what Jackson say.”
“That’s something else I wanted to say,” Ayana said.
“What was that?” Tramar asked.
Before Ayana could begin to explain, the waitress interrupted their conversation to check on them. Upon asking if they needed anything else, and they didn’t, with the exception of a shitload of money, the plump white girl disappeared. Ayana went back to looking at Tramar.
“You sure about Jackson?” she asked.
Tramar set his fork down. His demeanor let Ayana know that he was clearly not only confused but a little insulted. “What you mean am I sure about Jackson, baby?” he asked. “What kinda question is that? That’s my nigga. I’ve known that nigga since we was kids and shit, so why would you be asking if I’m sure about him?”
“I’m just talking about with later on today,” Ayana said, thinking of some of the thoughts she’d had while going to sleep. There was something about Jackson that just didn’t sit well with her. While she was more than sure that Jackson would never do any harm to his boy Tramar, there was something about him that seemed timid. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, something about him, Tramar. Something about him and going through with all this, when I was thinkin’ about what you said.”
“What you mean what I said?” Tramar asked, keeping his voice low as he leaned in and across the table. “What are you even talking about, Ayana?”
“I’m talking about what you told me about what happened out at this guy Byron’s house,” Ayana said, practically forcing the words out of her mouth and over her lips, onto the table. “I mean, I was thinkin’ about how you told me that he was hesitant to shoot this dude at his house, right?”
“Right,” Tramar said, nodding. “The nigga was actin’ like just getting the money that the Byron nigga owed him would be enough. I was try’na tell that nigga to go ahead and kill the nigga right then and there so the story would be over with. But no, he ain’t want me to do that. So, that’s why we here. I told you that, baby.”
“I know you told me that, Tramar,” Ayana explained. “And that’s why I’m confused.”
Tramar held his arms open and smiled, realizing that maybe he was coming across as a little too aggressive. “What you confused about, Ayana?” he wanted to know.
“Well, you told me that y’all had guns with silencers on them, right?” Ayana asked, needing clarity before she continued.
“Yeah,” Tramar said, still confused as to where this conversation could be going. “We did, why?”
“Well, if he was bold enough to run up in there and get the money he was owed back, and went through the trouble of getting silencers and shit like that,” Ayana explained, “then why would he not do the obvious thing and just kill the dude right then and there? If this had been any niggas on the south side or somewhere, they would have killed everybody in the house. And if there were to have been a light on at a neighbor’s house, they would have run up in there and gotten them too just to make sure that there were no stories to go around about who could have done what and so on. Look, I’m not saying that your boy Jackson set you up or anything like that, but I’ve just been paying attention to how he interacts and shit with you when we be talkin’ about the plans and stuff at the motel.”
“Yeah?” Tramar asked, intrigued. “And?”
“And something about him just seems timid to me,” Ayana said. “Something about him seems like, to me, okay, if he ain’t have the guts to do the smart thing when there were no fuckin’ witnesses at all, except for some dick sucking hoe, or so you all said, then why would he actually have the balls to run up into a bank with you on a Friday afternoon in Downtown Chicago and help you rob it – one of the bigger banks, at that.” Ayana was mindful of how loudly she spoke.
“So, what you sayin’?” Tramar asked. “Is you sayin’ that my nigga Jackson is gon’ run out on me when the shit really get heavy?”
Ayana pressed her lips together and looked away. “I’m not saying anything like that,” she answered. “I’m just letting you know how I feel. I mean, something just seems odd about getting guns with silencers and not even using them in a situation where you really should be usin' them.”
“We not even gon’ talk about this no more,” Tramar said. “I can’t even believe you try’na say that my nigga is gon’ cut out on me like that. At least he goin’ in there with me.”
Immediately, Ayana could pick up on Tramar’s tone in the last sentence. “What you mean at least he’s goin’ in there with you?” she asked.
“Nothin’,” Tramar said, avoiding eye contact with Ayana. “I don’t mean nothin’ by it. Let’s just eat this fuckin’ food so we can get back to the motel room. You already know a nigga is paranoid as shit, and I ain’t even done shit yet. I feel like people is lookin’ at me and stuff.”
Ayana did as Tramar suggested. She simply dropped the topic, with part of her wishing that she’d never brought it up to begin with. The two of them finished eating their meals, paid for the breakfast, and walked out into the parking lot.
“I know you’re scared, baby,” Tramar said, pulling Ayana close to him as they walked across the sunny parking lot. “I know you are. And I ain’t mean what I said in there. I was just a little mad is all. I ain’t want you to go in that bank in case somethin’ happen or somethin’. I already know you been through enough, and I feel bad that you even involved in this when you ain’t have nothin’ to do with it.”
Ayana stopped Tramar right there and looked into his eyes. “I’m doin’ this cause I know you would do the same for me if I was in this situation,” she explained. “That’s why.”
Tramar told Ayana that he was grateful, and the two of them continued their way to the car. Once inside, they headed back down the road, toward the hotel. About halfway down the road to the motel, Tramar received a phone call. Unfortunately, it was from Precious.
“Fuck, what the fuck do she want?” Tramar asked, explaining that it was Precious calling him. “Fuck, I don’t feel like being bothered with her bullshit today.”
“That’s the mother of your child, Tramar,” Ayana said, not wanting to hear whatever Precious was calling about either. “You betta go ahead and answer in case it’s something important or something. Just go ahead and answer. Shit, tell her that you gotta be somewhere or something so she don’t get to thinking that you can just be on the phone with her forever.”
“Hello?” Tramar said, answering the phone.
“Damn, why you have to answer the phone like that?” Precious asked.
Tramar held the phone out, away from his body. He put it on speakerphone, looking at Ayana and motioning for her to keep quiet. The two of them knew that Precious would literally split her wig if she were to find out that Ayana was not only sitting right there but was also listening to the phone conversation.
“What is it, Precious?” Tramar asked. “I’m actually headed to do something important right now, so what is it?”
“Well, damn,” Precious said, clearly sounding as if she was feeling neglected. “I see you musta went and got busy or somethin’.” She snickered. “I see when I called that ass and got in it about that child support, you done not only changed your tone, but you went and paid the balance and shit off. What did you do? Borrow the money from your daddy or something?”
“Precious, today really ain’t the day,” Tramar said. “And no, I ain’t go and borrow it from my dad
dy. That’s my money that I worked for all week. What is it that you callin’ about?”
“Okay, whatever nigga,” Precious said. Ayana rolled her eyes. She didn’t even consider herself to be the fighting kind of chick. However, between her mother and Precious, she couldn’t decide who she wanted to go to blows with first. “I was just callin’ your ass to see if you would watch Quan this weekend. I wanna get out and go do some stuff, for once, since I’m always cooped up in the house, you know, being a parent and shit.”
“This weekend,” Tramar said, hesitantly. “This weekend ain’t really all that good for me, Precious. Why you wait till Friday to call me and ask me to do some shit like that?”
“Cause, nigga,” Precious snapped back, “Quan is your son. I know you forget that sometimes, but whatever. Why can’t you come pick him up and spend some time with him this weekend, Tramar? Huh? I don’t never ask you to do much for him and when you do, you say you so, so busy. But nigga ain’t got no job. What you doin’, Tramar? You out robbin’ banks and shit or something?”
Both Tramar’s and Ayana’s heartbeat jumped. It was so ironic that Precious would drop a little piece of sarcasm that was so closely related to what was really going to happen later on in the day. Quickly, Ayana grabbed the phone and took it off of speakerphone as Precious continued talking about something.
“Look,” Ayana said, softly. “You tell her that you can pick Quan up this weekend and stuff, okay? Tomorrow, or later on tonight or whenever you gotta be gone, I can watch Quan while you and Jackson are gone. She ain’t even gotta know.”
“But when should I got get him?” Tramar asked, liking Ayana’s idea.
“Tonight,” Ayana answered. “No, betta yet, tomorrow morning.”
Tramar smiled. He liked that his woman had so much confidence in him. He noticed how she’d never used the word if in what she was saying to him right then. It was almost as if she was one hundred percent sure that everything would go just fine this afternoon at the bank. He grabbed her thigh and squeezed it as she put the phone back on speaker.
Cutting off Precious’ sentence, Tramar told her. “A’ight then, Precious, when you want a nigga to swing by and pick him up? My daddy said I can use the spare bedroom at his house for Quan to sleep. You know he wanna see him and shit, Precious.”
“You can come get him tomorrow morning, Tramar,” Precious said, but added sarcastically, “You remember where we live now, right?”
“Yeah,” Tramar sighed. “In them apartments off of Cottage Grove.”
The two agreed to text one another in the morning and hung up. Tramar looked over at Ayana. “You really think everything is going to be okay this afternoon, don’t you?” he asked.
Feeling that she needed to be completely honest, she answered, “Sometimes you just have to tell yourself that everything is going to be okay and maybe, just maybe, it will be. Plus, it ain’t like you gon’ make a career out of this.”
Tramar turned into the motel parking lot. “Sure ain’t,” he said. “I swear, after we do this shit, people ain’t even gon be able to call a nigga unless it’s you, my family, or Precious’ ole stupid ass.”
Ayana giggled and shook her head. “Boy, stop,” he said. “You ain’t gotta talk about that girl like that.”
When they got back to the motel room, Tramar called Jackson again. Once again, he was not answering. Deciding that it was time to wake him up and make sure that everything was in order, Tramar walked over to Jackson’s room. He banged on the door and heard stumbling around while he waited for the door to open. Jackson opened the door, crust practically crumbling out of his eyes.
“What, nigga?” Jackson said. “Damn, it’s too early for this bullshit, nigga.”
“Nigga, whatever,” Tramar said. “Get your ass up and get over to the room so we can make sure we got all this stuff laid out right.”
“Man,” Jackson said, shaking his head. “We already talked about this shit last night. What else is there to fuckin’ talk about?”
“Nigga, we goin’ to rob a bank in the middle of downtown during afternoon rush hour and shit,” Tramar said, looking up and down the motel walkway. “Ain’t no such thing as talkin’ enough about this shit. We gotta make sure that everything is airtight so we don’t fuck up…again.”
“Okay, okay,” Jackson said. “Gimme a minute.”
Tramar went back to his room, thinking about what Ayana had said to him about Jackson at the Bob Evans. As much as he didn’t want to admit that she may have had a point, he was slowly beginning to see what she meant. With just seeing Jackson for a few seconds in his motel room doorway, Tramar could see how he wasn’t as motivated as he felt he should be. It was as if he wasn’t taking it completely serious.
For the next hour or so, as they went over the plan in the motel room, Tramar watched his boy Jackson’s reactions to certain things. After a while, he let his feelings go and the two of them continued on with talking about the plan. Every so often, Ayana would break into their train of thought and interject with her ideas, which were always just as welcome. She wanted this to go well not only for Tramar and his family but also for her. She knew that if she were to get caught, even though she would have never touched a gun or any money, she could very easily be charged as an accessary to felony armed robbery. And, if she was not mistaken by what she’d heard on the news over the years, the charges could very well be upped for robbing a bank.
***
The three of them ironed their suits and hung them in the steamy bathroom before they slid into them and headed downtown. The entire ride into Chicago, through the dismal urbanized south side neighborhoods, Ayana looked out of the window. Time seemed to be flying. Her nerves were on edge. While at the wheel of Tramar’s Charger, she drove into Downtown Chicago, having to slow down every so often on the interstate because of traffic jams. She wasn’t even scared about Tramar and Jackson going in to rob the bank. The truth of the matter was that she was scared of the three of them not being able to get away from the scene fast enough.
Ayana exited the interstate and drove the car toward the center of downtown. Once she’d gotten so far, she could look down the street and see the White Savings & Trust Tower. It rose toward the sky in the distance, almost seeming to stand out amongst the rest of the high rises, even though it was nowhere close to being equal in height.
Dressed in what looked like bankers’ clothes with big sunglasses in their laps, the three of them sat quietly for most of the car ride. Once they’d gotten within a couple blocks of the bank tower, Tramar looked around. He pulled his gun from under the seat and slid it into his jacket pocket. Jackson did the same, causing Ayana to feel nervous. For the first time in the last couple of days, she really felt as if things were about to go down.
“Tell me where y’all want me to drop y’all off at before I go to the parking garage,” Ayana instructed. With both hands gripping the steering wheel, she looked closely at the people crossing at the crosswalks. The skywalks seemed to be packed today. She was slowly but surely getting more nervous, as the amount of people downtown seemed to be amplified today of all days.
“Right up there,” Tramar said. He pointed at an empty parking space, halfway up the block, in front of an attorney’s office. “Pull over up there and we can walk the few blocks to the bank.” He looked at Ayana. “Baby, you sure you okay with this?”
Ayana shook her head, wanting to be strong. “Yeah,” she answered. “Whatever we gotta do to get your family back, Tramar. Don’t worry about me. I just want y’all to do whatever you gotta do to get back to me safely. Stay calm and just get this shit done so we can get the fuck outta downtown.” She looked around as she pulled into the parking spot. “You can see that traffic is already building up down here. It’s crazy. You can tell it’s Friday afternoon.”
“And people try’na get outta here,” Jackson said. “Let’s do this shit, nigga.”
Tramar pushed his back door open. Just as he was setting one of his feet out onto the
pavement, he leaned over between the seats and kissed Ayana. “I promise, baby,” he said, softly. “We gon’ be back. You just be in that parking garage at where we was talkin’ bout and shit. Everything is gon’ be okay, okay?”
Ayana nodded and smiled, looking at the time. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Hurry up and get down to that bank. It closes in like thirty minutes or something. Please, be careful.”
Tramar and Jackson both closed their car doors. They walked up onto the sidewalk, pulling their suit jackets together at the front and walking side by side, down the street. Ayana took a deep breath before she pulled out of the parking spot and headed down the street. She watched Tramar and Jackson in her rearview mirror until they’d gotten lost in the hustle and bustle of the busy Downtown Chicago sidewalks.
“Nigga, you sure you ready for this shit?” Tramar asked, looking over at Jackson. “You ain’t gon’ flake out on a nigga, are you?”
Jackson shook his head. “Naw, nigga,” he said. “Why you think a nigga is gon’ flake out on you and shit? Where you get that shit from? I been feelin’ guilty as fuck about this shit and now you thinkin’ I’mma just run out. You helped me get my shit – my money – back. Now, I’mma help you get your family back. And, after that…”
“After that what?” Tramar asked, wanting to know. “What, nigga?”
“We shoulda killed that nigga Byron when we had the chance,” Jackson said. “Let’s not make the same mistake this time. Once we get your family back, we goin’ after that nigga, and we gon’ really make his ass suffer.”
A smile came over Tramar’s face. He shook Jackson’s hand and nodded. “That’s what I’m talkin’ bout, nigga,” he said. “That’s the shit I’m talkin’ bout. That’s the same shit I was thinkin’. I’m so mad I know I’mma kill that nigga the first chance I get. Swear to God.”
Tramar and Jackson walked side by side up the street. Once they’d gotten four or five blocks, they turned the corner and walked down the street that led to their target. At the end of the block was the White Savings & Trust Tower. Much like Ayana, Tramar found this moment almost surreal. In less time than a few minutes, he and his boy would be robbing a bank in the middle of Downtown Chicago. He could only pray, for the sake of his family and his son, that everything went exactly as they’d planned in the motel room.
When It All Falls Down 2 - Strapped Up: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady) Page 6
