Diamonds and Pearl

by K'wan

  “Because your friends are baby criminals,” Pearl shot back. “Don’t act like I don’t know what time it is with them and that Blood shit they rep. They can do what they want, but if I ever find out either of them ever tried to recruit you into a gang, they’re going to have a problem they don’t want.”

  “Nah, I ain’t with that gang shit, Pearl. Domo and Rah my boys, but that ain’t my style,” he said honestly.

  “Better not be. Now, where’s Daddy?”

  “Last I checked, he was in the kitchen with Sandra.”

  “Good.” She brushed past him. “If he brought your nappy-headed ass a chain, I can’t wait to see what he’s got for me.”

  * * *

  As soon as Pearl walked into the kitchen, she could pick up on the fact that something was wrong. Sandra was floating around, finishing up breakfast, but instead of her usual smile, she wore a look of great worry on her face.

  Big Stone sat at the breakfast table, hunched over a half-eaten plate of bacon and eggs. His thick brows were knitted and his face sour as he spoke with someone on his cell phone. To his right sat his shadow, Knowledge. He had his cell phone in his hand too, thumbs moving frantically, composing a text or an e-mail. When they made eye contact, Pearl flashed him a smile, but he went right back to his typing. Something was up, and she had a feeling it was about her. Suddenly she was tempted to slip back out the way she had come in.

  As if reading her mind, Big Stone raised his finger, motioning for her to give him a second while he finished his phone call. “Okay, I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he said to whoever he was talking to. He listened for a few more seconds before ending the call. Placing the phone on the table, he turned his attention to Pearl.

  “Hey, Daddy, how was your trip?” Pearl asked innocently.

  “Stressful.” Big Stone huffed. “Take a seat. I need to talk to you about something.” He motioned to the empty chair opposite him.

  Pearl sat in the chair with all the enthusiasm of a woman about to be interrogated by the police. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I need to ask you something and I want an honest answer.”

  “Um … okay.”

  “Did you go out with your friends last night?” he asked.

  Pearl’s eyes immediately went to Knowledge, who just sat there, staring at her, waiting to hear her answer. She thought he had given her a chance the night before, but he must’ve ratted her out to her dad that morning. She didn’t know why she was surprised. He was the guardian of the Stone family, but his loyalty was to Big Stone above all others.

  “I … um…”

  Sandra spoke up, to the surprise of both Pearl and Knowledge. “Pearl was home all night. We stayed up watching The Ten Commandments. I dozed off halfway through, but when I got up at about eleven thirty, she was in her bedroom, asleep.”

  It was a lie, and both Pearl and Knowledge knew it, but Pearl wasn’t about to question why Sandra was saving her ass. “Yeah, I was tired so I crashed early,” she continued the story. “Is something wrong?”

  “There was an accident last night. A fire broke out at Pops’s Bar on a Hundred and Forty-Fifth Street, and some people got hurt,” Big Stone said with a heavy heart.

  This came as a surprise to Pearl. Things had been fine when she’d been there, so it must’ve happened after she’d left. Her thoughts immediately went to Marisa and Sheila. Even before he said it, she knew what would come next.

  “The reason I asked you about it is because two of your people were there, the Haitian girl Sheila and T’s little girl Marisa,” he informed her.

  “Oh my God.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Are they…?”

  “Calm down, honey. Marisa wasn’t amongst the casualties,” Big Stone told her. “I just got off the phone with Tito, and he told me that the girls were rushed to Harlem Hospital. Marisa is being treated for some minor injuries, smoke inhalation and a sprained ankle. She’ll be fine.”

  “And Sheila?” Pearl asked, with hope in her heart. That hope died when Big Stone lowered his head.

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Pearl felt like someone had just slapped the taste out of her mouth. She was pissed off at Sheila for what she did, but not to the point where she would wish something like this on her. Guilt gripped her heart as she thought about her fight with Sheila and the nasty words they’d exchanged before she’d left. If only she hadn’t been so quick to abandon her friends, Sheila might still be alive. When she thought of how horribly she must’ve died—trapped, alone, and burned alive—it made Pearl feel ill.

  “You okay?” Sandra asked, noticing the color drain from Pearl’s face.

  “Yeah.” Pearl swallowed back the bile that was trying to escape her throat. “Could somebody give me a ride to the hospital?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Domo awoke with a start and sat bolt upright. He couldn’t remember what it was he had been dreaming about, but it had been troubling enough to startle him awake. It was funny, because he hadn’t even recalled going to sleep.

  After completing the job, Vita had dropped him and LA off in their hood. LA was still supercharged about what had happened and wanted to pop a few bottles in celebration of Domo catching his first homicide. Domo didn’t think death was something that should be celebrated, but he agreed just to shut him up. He left LA in front of the liquor store and went home to change out of the no-name-brand shit Vita had given them to change into after the heist. He had only planned on being home for a few minutes at most, but at some point he had dozed off. When he woke up, it was the next day.

  Swinging his long legs over the edge of his bed, he stretched his weary bones. He had been asleep for at least ten hours, but he was still tired. He plucked his phone from the floor and saw that he had 30 percent left on his battery and ten missed calls. The call log revealed that most of the calls had come from LA, Raheem, and his mother, but there was also a text from Vita. Curious, he opened the text and found only an address, date, and time. He guessed that was her way of requesting an audience with him, but he was still unsure how or if he would respond.

  Rolling into that apartment with Vita was both the most terrifying and exciting thing he had ever experienced in his life. Domo had run up in spots before, but never for that big of a take and certainly never for a job that organized. Vita was meticulous in her planning and moved like a seasoned general in her execution. Domo had encountered some broads on the set who were down to let it go, but never one who had just the right balance of toughness and sex appeal to turn him more on than off.

  Grabbing the charger wire hanging from the wall, Domo went to plug his phone in, but nothing happened. It was then that he remembered the reason he had taken LA up on his offer in the first place: their electricity had been shut off. Cursing under his breath, he shuffled into the kitchen and found a note pinned to the microwave.

  Hey, Domonique,

  Sorry about the electricity situation. Plan on handling it when I get in. I got two early hair appointments that should be able to cover what we owe. Can you throw out all the food that went bad? I’ll restock the fridge when I get back. Left you some McDonald’s in the microwave.

  Love,

  Mom

  She must’ve come and gone while he was sleeping it off. Domo plucked the McDonald’s from the microwave and then tossed the spoiled food from the refrigerator into the trash. The whole time he was reading her note, he could almost feel the shame in her words. For as long as he could remember, she had been the sole provider for their little family. Even when his brother was out hustling, it was still his mother who made sure they kept a roof over their heads. Domo knew that his mom busted her ass to make the best out of what little they had, and he wished she wouldn’t get so down on herself when things didn’t go right.

  After chomping down the two double cheeseburgers his mom had left, Domo showered, got dressed, and prepared to hit the streets. He was going to grab some weed and a bottle o
f Hennessey. It was a little early to be sipping, but he was in good spirits. Before heading out, he peeled five hundred dollars off the money he had made with Vita and put it in his mother’s stash spot, in the shoe box under her bed. He wanted to give her more, but it would be hard enough as it was to explain where he’d gotten the five hundred he’d left for her. He’d tell her he won it in a dice game. His mother frowned on him gambling, but it would be easier to get her to accept that rather than telling the truth: that he had earned it by helping to kill an apartment full of people.

  As he was sitting on the couch, tying his shoe, he heard a familiar Soooowooo outside his living room window. He crept over, carefully peeling the curtain back, and saw Raheem standing on his stoop. Raheem usually didn’t get out of bed before noon on weekends, so the fact that he was on his doorstep so early meant that he had either gotten into it with his stepdad again and gotten put out or had some neighborhood gossip that couldn’t wait.

  “Fuck is you doing out here so early?” Domo asked, bouncing down the steps of his building.

  “Came to check my best friend and the hood’s newest celebrity.” Raheem beamed. He had a lit blunt pinched between his lips. He took a deep pull and then passed it to Domo.

  “What you talking about, Rah?” Domo accepted the blunt.

  “C’mon, Domo. How long we known each other? Ain’t no secrets between us, so you ain’t gotta act like that. LA been telling everybody on the block how you held it down like a real gangster last night!” Raheem said proudly.

  Domo choked on the smoke and damn near dropped the weed. “What? What did he say?”

  Raheem snatched the blunt back. “Told me y’all hooked into a serious crew for a caper, and when shit went sour, you saved everybody’s ass. He said when you backed out the hammer, all them niggas turned cold pussy and gave up their shit! Word to mine, y’all lucky I wasn’t there, because nobody would’ve left out that bitch alive!” he boasted, shaping his fingers in the form of a gun.

  Domo let out a small sigh of relief that LA had omitted the more sensitive parts of the story, but he was still angry. They had all agreed to keep what had gone down a secret, because of the harsh ramifications that could come of it. Murder was nothing to play with, and neither were Vita and her crew. The right words whispered into the wrong ears could land Domo in the morgue or in prison, and neither prospect appealed to him. Domo and LA were definitely going to have a conversation when he saw him.

  “Yo, niggas been buzzing about that shit all night,” Raheem continued, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Talking about that they didn’t know you had it in you. Shit, I told them muthafuckas my right-hand man Domo is quiet, but he about that life; they just don’t know you like I do.” He extended the blunt again.

  “Right.” Domo took a toke. His mind had gone back to the cryptic text he’d gotten from Vita in the middle of the night. Had LA’s bragging gotten back to her and her people? For all he knew, the address she wanted him to come to might very well end up being his final resting place.

  “Damn, you just hit a big score and instead of you being happy about it, you standing around, looking like somebody kicked your dog,” Raheem observed. “If anything, I should be the one wearing the sour grill.”

  “How you figure?” Domo didn’t understand what he was getting at.

  “Man, me and you go back to free lunch, and you didn’t even call me when somebody came along and offered you a chance to make some chips,” Raheem complained.

  “Rah, it wasn’t even like that. This whole thing popped up on some random shit, and I went with it. I don’t even know the people like that who set it up,” Domo said honestly.

  Raheem gave him a disbelieving look. “LA says they’re making major moves over in New York and are looking for stand-up niggas to get money with.”

  “Man, you need to stop listening to LA’s high ass. It was one job, Rah. We don’t even know the people who set it up like that—at least, I don’t. For all we know, they could just be blowing smoke,” Domo said, downplaying it.

  Raheem sucked his teeth. “Domo, this is me. How long we been sniffing around Stoney’s people, trying to get plugged into a real crew, and now that the door is open, you ain’t gonna pull ya man in with you? That’s fucked up. I thought we were better than that.”

  “Rah—” Domo began, but Raheem cut him off.

  “Blood, you know I pull my own weight, so I’m not coming at you for a handout. All I need is an introduction, and I can create my own opportunities from there.”

  Domo looked at his friend, wishing he could break it down to him in a way he could understand without incriminating himself. Raheem was looking at it as Domo not wanting to put him on, but he was actually trying to keep his friend from getting tied up in some shit he wasn’t sure if either of them were truly prepared to handle. He hadn’t even known Vita for twenty-four hours, but she had already shown him that she and her people were playing at a level that wasn’t for the faint of heart. But he knew that Raheem wasn’t going to let it go, and if Domo denied him, he’d just turn to LA and try to get plugged in.

  “Okay,” Domo relented. “I’ll take you to New York with me tonight and introduce you.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, my nigga!” Raheem said happily.

  “Look, I’m gonna let you know ahead of time: I don’t know too much about these cats, but I do know that they don’t fuck around. So when we roll up in there, you mind your manners and don’t do nothing stupid. We’ll be too far from home for a lifeline, though I doubt there’d be too much anyone could do if we end up on the wrong side of these people anyhow,” Domo warned.

  Raheem gave him a look. “C’mon, man. Stop treating me like I’m some square-ass nigga. I’m gonna go in there and let my gangster speak for itself.”

  “And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Knowledge, Big Stone, and the ladies climbed int the SUV and headed out. Normally Big Stone would’ve let Sandra take Pearl to the hospital to see her friend so he and Knowledge could handle street business, but since everyone who needed to be seen was in the same hospital, they could kill two birds with one stone.

  The ride was an eerily quiet one, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Pearl was visibly shaken up by receiving the news about her friends, and Knowledge couldn’t say he blamed her. He had lost his fair share of people over the years, but it never got easier, especially when they were that young. He knew from the look on Big Stone’s face when he was on the phone with Tito that it tore his heart out to hear his friend weeping over almost losing his baby girl. No one had spoken to Sheila’s parents yet, but he could only imagine what they were going through. No parent should have to bury their child. This made Knowledge glad that he didn’t have kids, because he wasn’t sure if his heart could take that kind of loss.

  The parking situation was suspect, meaning they would have to drive around and look for a spot, which would eat into precious time that they didn’t really have to spare that day. Big Stone suggested that they drop the women off while they looked for a parking spot, but Sandra volunteered to do it. Pearl looked like she could use an extra few minutes to get her nerves together before going up to see her friend. Big Stone wasn’t keen on the idea, but it would give him a few extra minutes to handle his other business before he joined them on their visit to Marisa and her family.

  Knowledge led the way to the nurse’s station, where they revealed that Lance “Pops” Brown was in a private room on the fifth floor, but only family was allowed in to see him. This came as a bit of surprise to Knowledge, considering he wasn’t in intensive care or recovering from a major surgery. What were all the extra precautions about? A few well-spread bills and the nurses looked the other way while Cousin Knowledge and Uncle Stone went to check on their ailing relative.

  Pops’s room was at the end of the hall. The door was slightly ajar, and they could see that he wasn’t alone. Knowledge gave a quick tap on the door before
pushing it open and inviting himself in. Pops was propped up on a stack of pillows, signing some papers that were on his lap. At his bedside, overseeing the signatures, were two people: a tall white man wearing a suit, and a young black woman. Dark sunglasses and her long red wig obscured most of her face, and a long overcoat hugged her body, despite the warm weather. Something about her presence raised a red flag with Knowledge, but before he could ponder it further, Big Stone announced their presence.

  Big Stone’s voice filled the room. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  The pen dropped from Pops’s hand like a hot coal when he noticed Big Stone standing in his room. “Oh … hey, Big Stone. Didn’t hear you come in.” He tried to muster a grin but then winced in pain.

  “If this is a bad time, I can come back,” Big Stone offered in a less-than-sincere tone.

  “Nah, they were just leaving,” Pops said, cutting his eyes at the man in the suit.

  “Right.” The man in the suit took the hint. He gathered the papers from Pops and stuffed them hastily into his briefcase. “Thank you again for your time, Mr. Brown. If there’s anything else, someone from my office will give you a call.” He gathered his things and hustled out the door.

  The girl wasn’t so quick to move. She lingered in the chair for a moment longer, regarding Knowledge and Big Stone from behind her sunglasses. She nodded as if she had just completed some assessment of them, before rising from the chair. “Nice doing business with you,” she told Pops slyly before sauntering out the door.

  “What was that all about?” Big Stone asked, his eyebrow raised.

  “Nothing man, just wrapping up some business. C’mon in and have a seat.” Pops motioned toward the chair the girl had just vacated.

  “Nah, I’ll stand. I don’t plan on being here that long. I gotta go see somebody else who’s up in here,” Big Stone told him.

  “So, is that what brings you this way?” Pops asked.