by Cash
“Just tell me why you hated him so much?” I snarled as I looked down at Shan. She didn’t respond. “You’re pitiful. I don’t have to murk you, you’ll smoke your own damn self to death,” I said with disdain.
“Get up, shawdy. I’m not gonna shoot her,” I told Ava.
“Promise me,” she demanded.
“On all that I love,” I avowed.
I understood why Ava had protected Shan’s life with her own. She had lost her mother to cancer at a young age. Mothers were sacred to her.
“You should’ve let me put that bitch out of her misery.” I drove off, leaving Shan in a downpour of rain.
“You don’t really feel that way. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have done what you did when you saw those boys beating on her.”
“Whateva, shawdy. All I know is that I hate that slimy ass bitch,” I said.
“Don’t talk like that. She’s still your mother, regardless. I would give anything to have my mother here with me. It wouldn’t matter if she was a crackhead, a drunk or a two-dollar whore—as long as I could go to her sometimes and just lay my head on her lap. I’d cherish those moments,” lamented Ava.
I felt the same way about Big Ma. If I could just lay my head on her lap everything would be all right. But no matter how I tried. I could not feel that same love for Shan. I hated her more than Ava was capable of understanding.
“You should’ve stayed out of the fuckin’ way and let me kill that rat ass bitch,” I said as I recalled that Shan had tried to prostitute Laquanda.
CHAPTER 26
“Umph ump umph!” Inez shook her head in disgust when I told her how my pop’s ashes had been spilled and washed away. “That woman is a hot ass mess!”
“I’m telling you, if Ava wouldn’t have done what she did, I was gonna push Shan’s little ass ponytail all the way back.”
Inez laughed and then said seriously, “I’m glad that you didn’t. If for no reason than it would’ve caused Poochie to roll over in her grave.”
“Fuck that, I was gonna put Shan in a grave of her own,” I said, firing up a blunt.
A week later, we were inside a hotel suite in Las Vegas, not far from where Juanita resided. Inez had accompanied me there on the airplane. We stayed up most of the night talking.
In the morning, we rented a car and drove to the address we had for Juanita. On the way to her house, I called to speak with her, but I did not let her know we were in town. I just wanted to make sure she was at home.
I was still on the phone with her when we pulled up to her crib. “I gotta call you back,” I said in a hurry and hung up.
Juanita stayed in Summerlin in a large stucco home with a cobble stone driveway. The luxuries my pop’s CD royalties provided her were obvious. The lawn was as tight as a fresh hair-cut with a sharp razor line. A Benz was parked in the driveway and one of those new Cadillac trucks. I knew that Juanita had become a psychologist and made a sweet check of her own, but intuition told me that what I was looking at came from my pop’s dough.
When I made the comment to Inez, she replied, “You damn right. This trick out here ballin’ and don’t want to do anything for you or his other children. That’s what burns me up!”
I had to tell Inez to pipe down as we approached the door. She regained her composure and rang the doorbell with a fake smile plastered across her face. I chuckled at her Dr. Jekyll/ Mrs. Hyde antics because she was looking like a mad-woman moments ago.
Finally, Justice answered the door looking as nerdy as he sounded over the phone. All he was missing was a pair of suspenders. This little soft looking dude couldn’t be my pop’s son. We needed to take this shit to the Maury show, I stood there thinking.
“May I help you?” he asked. He didn’t recognize me. We had only met once, right after my pop was executed.
“Sup, lil’ nigga? I’m Lil T, your brother.”
He looked at me with nothing in his eyes. There was no bond between us.
“Mom, Little T and some woman is at the door,” he called to Juanita. She came to the door right away.
Instantly, I knew how she caught my pop’s eye. Her appearance screamed Basketball Wives.
“Terrence Junior, what on earth are you doing way out here? Inez, is he running from the police” she asked, looking alarmed.
“No, he’s not. May we come inside?” Inez scoffed.
“Yes, but I’m afraid you can’t stay long. I was about to go to the gym with a friend.” She stepped aside and let us in.
Justice was watching me like he thought I might steal something.
The interior of the house was as impressive as the outside. The furniture looked rich and shiny and the floors were polished like glass. On the walls, I saw framed pictures of Juanita and Justice, but not a single picture of my pop. My nose flared.
“Have a seat,” offered Juanita.
Inez accepted the offer, but I remained standing. I didn’t want to sit on that bitch’s perfect sofa.
“Mom, would you like me to get tea or maybe bottled water for the guests?” my half-brother asked.
I couldn’t help it. I busted out laughing. What type of dude had Juanita raised?
“Bruh, loosen up. Pull your pants down and let ‘em sag off your ass a little. Your swag is all wrong. Don’t you know who our pop was?” I said.
“Pull my pants down like a hoodlum, you mean?”
“I’m sayin’, bruh, they’re up to your chest.” I snickered. “C’mere, let ya big bruh hook you up.” I loosened the lil’ nigga’s belt and adjusted his pants.
“Justice! Pull your pants up on your behind. You’re not a thug.” Juanita scolded him.
Our pop epitomized a thug. How is she hating on that? I asked myself. And she was from the projects not so long ago. How the fuck did she get all brand new? I could see her wanting the best for Justice, but she was raising a lame. I shook my head.
Justice sat down on the sofa beside Juanita.
“So, what warrants this visit?” she asked looking at the watch on her wrist like she was pressed for time.
I explained our presence.
“Well, if you’ve managed to lose the ashes of your father that I gave you, why would I give you more? It seems you’re not responsible,” said Juanita.
“He didn’t lose them,” Inez said.
“Six in one hand, half a dozen in the other.”
“Come off that high horse and speak English!” Inez snapped. “Don’t make me pull your card.”
“I got this,” I said, jumping back in the conversation. “Juanita, I’ma make this short and simple. ‘Cause for real, my patience is zero. My pop left you a stupid check and instructed you to take care of his children with it—”
“I will when you demonstrate that you will do the right thing. I’ve told you this before.”
“I’m not demonstrating a damn thing. I don’t need you to take care of me. But what about my sisters?”
“I’ve set up trust funds for each of you.”
“Did you set up a trust fund for me when I was in prison and you wouldn’t even send me commissary money?” Inez said. “Didn’t Youngblood trust you to do that?”
Juanita said nothing.
I cut straight to the chase. “All I want is my pop’s ashes. Now, we can do this the simple way or it can get ugly. Don’t make me leave here today with your blood all over me.”
Juanita seemed to weigh my seriousness and her conclusion saved her life. She went into another room and returned with a black porcelain urn.
“Take it and go! And please stay out of our lives!” she said as she shoved the urn into my hands.
I grilled her, but my mission was complete. Fuck everything else. I locked eyes with Justice, who was about ten or eleven years old.
“It ain’t even about you, lil’ dude,” I said.
At the door, Inez half spun and gave it to Juanita. “Queen Africa, huh? Ain’t that the shit you was kicking when Youngblood was alive? You were supposed to keep his tribe
together. Didn’t you vow to do that? Bitch, you’re a fraudulent ass ho, and I never liked you in the first place.”
Whop!
She punched Juanita dead in the mouth, knocking her on her high-class ass. “That’s for stealing my man. And this is for mistreating his children!” she kicked that bitch in her side.
Juanita grabbed a hold of Inez’ leg and pulled her down. They rolled on the floor of the vestibule tearing into each other like two felines, but Juanita was a Persian while Inez was an alley cat.
“Bitch, all I did was fight when I was locked up,” Inez said as she got on top of Juanita and pinned her down.
“Get up off of my mother!” cried Justice, trying to intervene.
I snatched his lil’ ass up, “Fall back before I make change.”
I held him in a firm but non-violent choke hold while Inez punched his bougie mama in the nose several times. When she stood up, Juanita’s blood was all over her blouse.
“Don’t make me fly back out here to get another piece of your high yellow ass!” Inez huffed.
I let go of Justice and smirked down at Juanita, who had finally gotten the beat down she deserved.
Justice dashed upstairs in a huff. I guessed that his soft ass was going to cry on his pillow or something.
A minute or so later, he returned with a banger in his hand. He pointed it at Inez first and then trained the banger on me.
The little nigga didn’t utter a single threat, he just stood there trembling with fury. His eyes were slits and his jaw was set so that his mouth was a tight line. He seemed ready to pop that toolie. I smiled because baby bruh was finally letting his nuts hang. Our pop’s blood had risen to the top.
“Justice, you put that gun down, right now!” barked Juanita.
Justice grilled me for a full minute before letting his arm drop to his side. The tension in the room quickly evaporated. Inez looked at Juanita and Juanita lowered her eyes. A fresh ass whooping seemed to soften Juanita’s whole attitude.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t remain as strong as you,” she blurted out to Inez. “I tried, but holding on to those memories and the love I had for Youngblood was affecting my health. Remember, I was right there when they put him to death.” Tears streamed down Juanita’s face.
I felt a little sorry for her. She looked at us both with pleading eyes. “If I hadn’t let go, the grief would have killed me,” she said.
Inez had heard enough, she turned and walked off to the car.
“Lil T, will you please forgive me?” Juanita asked tearfully.
“I’ll try.” That was the best I could do.
CHAPTER 27
Back in the A, I dropped ninety bands on a new platinum chain and urn. Now my swag felt complete again.
I made my rounds, checking on Eryka, Chante and Tamia. I poured some of our father’s ashes into each of their small urns and watched them proudly rock their chains. Now it was back to the streets.
I collected taxes without trouble. By now, all but the most foolish niggas knew it was cheaper to pay me than to bury their whole squads.
I was on Moreland, about to put my press game down on this new spot, when two cars whipped up on me. My banger was out in a flash.
“Nah, homie, it ain’t like that. We come in peace. We’re Criminal’s family.”
They stepped out of vehicles empty handed. I kept my eyes on them and saw the GF tats on their faces and I relaxed a bit. Long story short, they wanted to recruit me into the GF to help out in a serious beef they had with a clique of esses-Mexican thugs.
“Real talk, I’ll slump an ese on GP. But I can’t fuck with your offer right now; I got my own thing going on.” I declined.
“I respect that,” said the one doing the talking.
I spoke to the one who looked familiar. “What’s good, lil’ homie? I’m Trouble.”
“I know who you are, fam. I went on a lick with you and Criminal. Real recognize real.”
“True. Listen, I can’t get down with y’all on no clique shit, but if shit gets too hot, hit me up and I’ll drop a few of those bitch ass Mexicans. They ain’t running the A. They better take that shit back to Cali, Texas or wherever else niggas let ‘em regulate. This the Dirty we’ll eat their lil’ short asses alive.”
I gave him my number to lock into his phone. “Real recognize real,” I said.
We touched fists and I left there imagining the fierce team GF would be if I joined their ranks. Those thoughts didn’t linger long, though.
The next night, I donned a ski mask and kicked in the door of one of Zeke’s stash houses I had learned about.
“Oh, Jesus! Please don’t hurt me,” pleaded the gray haired elderly woman whose face my banger was pointed in. Then she started hyperventilating.
“Calm down, I’m not gonna hurt you unless you force me to. Would you like a glass of water?” I asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Where’s the kitchen?”
“Back that a way.” She pointed.
I had been watching the house for days, so I knew she lived alone. I turned my head in the direction she pointed for a split second; next thing I knew, granny had a .45 shoved into my spine.
“Drop that damn gun or I’ll cripple you for life,” she threatened. I stalled for a minute. “Drop it!” she hissed.
“No, you drop yours!” Criminal’s voice came from behind Grandma.
That distracted her for a pause. I turned, grabbed her wrist and easily wrestled the gun away from her.
“You slick ass, old bitch!” I barked and knocked her on her ass.
Criminal pointed the banger down on granny’s head.
“No, bruh!” my voice boomed. “You gotta respect grandma’s gangsta.” I tossed him the duct tape. “Tape her up so she don’t pull nothing else out from under that house coat.”
Once granny saw she had no win, she gave us no more problems. We left there with twelve bricks and twelve pounds of Kush, but found no dough.
“Now you see why I watch your back.” Criminal pointed out to me. “Grandma almost caught you slippin’.”
“Yeah, she did,” I said as we split up the lick.
***
I hit Manky with three of the bricks on consignment and sold my other three to Tommy Gun. All of the Kush, besides what I kept for my personal use, went to Inez, free of charge. She had clientele she had been serving for years, dating back to when my pop was alive.
While I was at the house, Fat Stan drove up to pick up Bianca. He didn’t come inside. He waited outside in his car. Bianca was in her room getting dressed. Tamia was on the phone with Eryka.
I hopped up and headed for the door.
“Lil T, what are you about to do?” asked Inez, looking alarmed.
“Going to go find out what’s on this nigga’s mind,” I replied. I was out before she could try and stop me.
I saw fear in his eyes when I got to his car. A scared nigga will murk you fast, though. So, I wasn’t slippin’. My shit was in my hand, already click-clacked. I wasn’t trying to chump the nigga, but neither was I gonna tip toe around him. If he wanted some payback, we could set it off right now.
“You got something you wanna settle with me?” I confronted him, straight up, no chaser.
“Nawl, I just came to take my daughter to get her driver’s license. I’m through with all that.”
“You sure? ‘Cause we can do it here and now and get it over with.”
“Like I said, I’m through with it.”
I eyeballed the nigga, trying to read him. Something in the way he looked at me told me that the nigga still held animosity, and the shit wasn’t over with. But before I could challenge him on it, Bianca came bounding up to his car.
“Hey, Daddy. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
She climbed in the car with Fat Stan and they backed out of the driveway and drove off.
Pushing his punk ass out of mind, I went back inside to kick it with Inez and Tamia. We played different games on the Wii unt
il the sun went down. Then Inez made some shrimp fried rice. We ate while watching American Gangster on DVD. In the middle of the movie, we heard a car pull up to the house.
“That’s probably Bianca. Tamia, go open the door for your sister,” said Inez and Tamia sauntered off.
A burst of gunshots tattered the front door and shattered the picture window. Tamia screamed. I jumped up and tackled her to the floor and then pulled her away from the gunfire.
“Y’ all stay down!” I barked as I ran toward the back door.
I hopped down the stairs off of the back porch in one leap. I bent the corner of the house, bustin’ off with my toolie at the dark vehicle that had just pulled off. “Nawl, bitch muthafuckas, don’t run now!”
Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc!
I blasted at its taillights.
Once the car was out of sight, I hurried back inside to check on Tamia and Inez. They both were unharmed, but Tamia was crying and she had peed on herself.
“Look, I gotta bounce before the po-po arrive. Don’t stay here tonight. Go get a room somewhere and call me and let me know where y’all are,” I told Inez.
On my way to my car, I said to myself, “So that’s how he wanna play it, huh? Nigga just buried his goddamn self.”
If I wasn’t living it, I would’ve sworn it was a movie. Everywhere I went guns went off! Didn’t niggas know if they aimed at me and missed, I was coming back at ‘em with a vengeance? Didn’t they know I go hard in the muthafuckin’ paint!
“Yo, what’s going on, lil’ soldier?” asked Swag, calling from Brooklyn where he had gone to record something for Jigga. I assured him it was nothing that I couldn’t handle.
“Just the hand I’ve been dealt,” I added.
“True that. But you can play it how you choose. Can’t you see that your luck is beginning to run out? How many more times do you think the bullet will miss you?”
“Fam, I’m synonymous with death.” I brushed off the lecture.
“I hear all that slick shit, pimp. And I believe you really don’t care nothing about dying young, but others around you might wanna live. What if Inez and Tamia would’ve caught a bullet? Haven’t you learned anything from what happened to Poochie and your sister?” His words hit me like a punch in the face.
