The Face That Launched A Thousand Bullets (The Cartel Publications Presents)

by Styles, T.

  “I will if you give me your name.” Nyzon tried to gain his composure.

  Instead of her telling him, she pointed to his head and started laughing.

  “What?”

  “It’s…your…head.” The girl held her stomach and bent over with laughter.

  “What about it?” he asked, rubbing his head. The moment he did he felt a little knot forming next to the part in his scalp. “Shoot!”

  It was impossible to be cute with a knot on his face.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.” She flashed a dimpled smile. “Just put a little ice on it when you get home.” She reached up and touched it lightly.

  He was stunned. It was the first time a girl touched him without him having to point to his penis and say, “Put your hand right here.”

  “And my name is Monesha. Monesha Heart. So now can you help me find the office?”

  Nyzon stared at her again before he answered the question. He had to have her. She was the answer to his prayers. If he had a girl like her on his arm, everybody would really be jocking him. They walked down the hall together.

  “Here it goes right here.” He pushed the door open to the office for her to walk in. He was about to leave when one of the administrators saw him.

  “Nyzon Peate…get in here!” Mrs. Tawney yelled.

  “I’m goin’ to class right now Mrs. Tawney. I was just walkin’ the new girl to the office.” Normally he and the twins would hang in the hallways a few minutes after the bell rung.

  “You always walking the new girl somewhere. Nyzon get in here now!”

  Slightly embarrassed he walked up to the corner of the desk and said, “What’s up?” He focused on her chubby white face.

  “I need you to take these documents to your mother. The board of education can’t find a copy of your birth certificate on file or her driver’s license anywhere in the system.”

  “What that mean?” he said looking at the sealed envelope.

  “Just tell her that every year the board does a random verification of a few students in the school to make sure everything’s in order. And your information came back with a flag. So have her complete the documents and send them back to me ASAP.”

  “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

  “Good…and Nyzon…get to class!”

  He looked at Monesha and walked out the door nervous.

  His heart raced. The last time there was a problem with the paperwork at school, his mother pulled him out claiming that the educational system was flawed. In fact anytime she was questioned about anything pertaining to Nyzon, they’d move. She took over protectiveness to the next level and Nyzon wanted it to stop. As far as he was concerned he had two options, hide the documents and never give them to her, or hand them over and risk being pulled out of school again. Thinking for a brief second he dumped them in a trashcan in the hallway and went to class.

  After School

  “Open your legs.” Nyzon said to Starlette, the school’s whore who let him finger her whenever he wanted.

  His body pressed on top of hers in the backseat of an old yellow abandoned car.

  “You not gonna say nothin’ are you?” she asked as she spread her legs a little wider so Nyzon could get under her skirt, and move her panties to the side.

  She had an older boyfriend and didn’t want him finding out she was a freak. Royala was on guard outside of the car, as Nyzon got busy with the neighborhood freak.

  “Naw I ain’t gonna say nothin’.” He lied as he stuck his fingers between her legs and inside her tight pussy. The only person he was going to tell was the twins. “I told you I wouldn’t do that.”

  He wasn’t getting anything out of it, just liked the idea of being able to do it. Nyzon peeped out of the fog stained window to be sure Royala was still watching his back. She was.

  “Nyzon do you like me?” she asked as she moaned like she loved his fingers being jammed rythmlessly inside of her.

  He didn’t want to tell her he couldn’t get down with sluts so he lied.

  “You know I do.”

  “So why you neva talk to me at school?”

  Right before he could answer, Nyzon looked out of the back window and saw a red Saab pull up. The gold BBS rims had his mouth open. The music was so loud coming from it, the windows in the car he was in rattled. Minutes later, Angel, his babysitter appeared from the car. She smiled brightly before waving goodbye to the driver and it was like she moved in slow motion. Nyzon felt jealousy consume him. He wanted to be with 18-year-old Angel. Instead he was finger-fucking freaky Starlette that everybody had a go with.

  “You okay?” Starlette asked sensing his attention had been taken elsewhere.

  “Uh…yeah. I’m cool.” His eyes remained on Angel.

  She tugged at her skirt and turned around to see what compelled him. She sucked her teeth when she saw cute big-tittie Angel.

  “Ain’t no need of you thinkin’ bout her!” she continued with an attitude, pulling his fingers out of vagina. “Girls like that only want one thing and you ain’t got it! I don’t care how deep your part on the side of your hair is. It’s deep pockets that count.”

  With that she pushed him off and got out of the car.

  Royala saw this and rushed to the door.

  “You get it, man?” She asked.

  “Yeah. I hit.” He said holding his glance on Angel.

  Careful not to put the finger he had inside of her in his face, he thought about what Starlette said. But he disagreed. He knew a day would come when he could get any girl he wanted, no matter how much it took. And he knew the day would come soon.

  Kavon Cartier

  Washington, D.C., 1988

  Don’t Try Me

  It was a brisk winter afternoon in Chocolate City, habitat to one of the most vicious narcotics games on the East Coast. Christmas was a little over a month away and the atmosphere was somewhat joyous if your pockets were as deep as Kavon Cartier’s.

  He was blasting an Essence band Go-go tape, when he pulled in front of Ben’s Chili Bowl, a hangout spot in the city. His red Saab sparkled in the night despite the nasty weather. And the butter interior smelled of new leather and vanilla.

  Leaned so far to the right, his face touched the glass lightly when he put his hazard lights on in front of the store and parked. Even though the thick brown ice made it difficult to find a parking space, he wasn’t concerned. Rolling his tinted window down, he flagged the manager to come outside. It didn’t take him long to get his attention because he was waiting on Kavon since he called an hour ago. He had to meet his partner Shy to discuss some serious business.

  “What’s up wit my parkin’ space?” he asked the manager. The frigid air rushed inside and battled with the fury of the heat running in his car when he rolled down his window.

  “I’m sorry, Kavon. Give me one minute.” He threw up one finger. “It’ll be taken care of.” The old black man quickly hustled back inside the store.

  Within the crowded restaurant, through the fogged window, he could see the manager yelling at a pretty black girl with golden hair. Next he grabbed her forcefully by her elbow and pointed outside. Kavon just knew a smack would follow, but it didn’t. Seconds later she came bolting out the front door, irritated that she had to move her car. She even rolled her eyes at Kavon, the reason for her dismay. But just like that, a parking space had suddenly become available.

  Once he parallel parked, he noticed Shy’s new white Beemer with New York State plates a few spots in front of him. This nigga got a new car every week! Kavon shook his head, and hopped out of his ride like he owned the place.

  As usual, Ben’s Chili was loaded with people. The pungent fragrance of chili powder and garlic wafted throughout the restaurant. This was the place to be if you were looking for a baller or looking to get fucked. People were laughing and holding conversations. Sex, money and power were in the air and Kavon loved it!

  When he saw the girl who moved her car so he could move in, he peele
d off a fifty-dollar bill, threw it on her table and kept it moving. He winked when he saw a smile spread across her face, but to him it was nothing but a thing.

  In the light, the girl could see how handsome he was and was mad she acted so immature earlier. His ebony colored skin, thick eyebrows gave him a distinct, sexy look. And the small gash on his chin that he got as a child from falling on a glass table, gave him definition. Hands down, Kavon was fine as shit.

  “I see you still givin’ bitches your money,” Shy joked.

  “It ain’t trickin’ if you got it,” Kavon responded.

  “So, what up, B?!” Shy yelled as he approached Kavon and gave him some dap.

  He was a big dude who ate all the fucking time. Despite his 6’2 inch frame and three hundred pound weight, he was extremely attractive and favored Heavy D in his younger years. His yellow-apricot skin was without flaws, except for the brown heart-shaped birthmark under his right eye.

  “You know it’s your world. I just live here!” Kavon responded, looking for the Mr. Gilroy, the store manager who got him his parking place earlier. Whenever Kavon came to Ben’s, he was given the VIP treatment that included a special section in the back of the restaurant, free from everyone else.

  “Aye, Kavon!” the manager said, giving him a manly hug. “Your seats are over here and I’m sorry about the problem earlier. I told Sharice you were coming and to have your spot clear, but apparently she wasn’t listening. You know how females are.”

  “Not a problem. Everything’s cool now.” Kavon wasn’t the kind of dude to abuse his power although he could.

  When they were seated Kavon noticed a few folks looking at him and Shy wondering who they were, especially considering the restaurant was so crowded they had to wait over an hour for a seat. But it was the 80’s and cash ruled everything around.

  “If you need anything just let me know.” Kavon shook his hand and left a C-note.

  After they claimed their seats, both of them ordered two chili bowls with extra cheddar cheese and the manager made sure a cute girl brought it over to them. When she was gone, Shy got right down to business.

  “So what up?” he asked as he stuffed his face with four spoonfuls of chili in one breath.

  “Everything and anything.”

  “No, what’s really up, B? Cause I know you ain’t got me out here to eat no fuckin’ chili.”

  “True dat. I’ma be straight up wit you. You gotta come down on the prices of the brick.” Kavon pushed the chili away.

  “My prices are standard.” Shy pointed his index finger at the table looking around to be sure no one was trying to listen in on their conversation. “You know dat.”

  “Shit’s changed, Shy. And your prices got to too.” Kavon peered at him. “So either you come down or I’ma be forced to conduct business with my new folks.”

  “I been hookin’ yo ass up for six years.”

  “Hookin’ me up? You can’t be serious!” Nyzon sat back in his seat and smirked.

  “I’m dead serious!” Shy said as lines formed in his forehead. “So how the fuck you gonna come in here and try to pressure me? You and me both know that for the price I give you on them keys, I coulda charged anotha mothafucka double.”

  “Fuck you talkin’ bout, Shy? Dat’s some bullshit!” Kavon slammed his fist on the table, causing some of his chili to pop out and splatter. “I been payin’ da same prices as everybody else you deal wit if not more. Don’t forget you talk more than you can remember.” He looked at him sternly. “Now I fucks wit you, but I’m not payin’ more than I have to. And the truth of the matter is, if you not willin’ to come down, I got somebody that’ll charge me less. So what’s it gonna be?”

  Shy shot him an evil glare. Kavon’s tone with him was out of the ordinary and he decided to try him.

  “You funny as shit.”

  “What you mean I’m funny as shit?” Kavon mugged. He was sick of him.

  And although he’d known Shy for a minute, he was fully prepared to cease all business interactions with him today if he didn’t meet his demands. Between Tara, his prize wife who had expensive tastes pressuring him every other day to get a legal hustle, and the cops bum rushing his house every other month, he was tired of living on the edge. He needed enough money to score big and get out, and Shy was making it difficult.

  He had plans to ask Tara Pleasants, the love of his life, to be his wife. Just thinking about her naturally bronzed skin and sandy brown hair had his chest on swole and she was all his. Mixed with African American and Brazilian, she had an exotic appeal not common in the D.C. area.

  Tara’s beauty was unquestionable, but there were a few things he didn’t understand about her. She depended on him too much to make decisions in her life. Kavon was a hustler, and a hustler needed a strong woman who could hold him down when times got rough and make decisions when the time was right. And with Tara, he couldn’t say beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could. With that said, it was still obvious that she influenced his decisions.

  “You think it’s easy findin’ niggas in this game who got your back?”

  “Shy we ain’t kids no more. I’m interested in gettin’ my weight up. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”

  To some people it may have appeared as if Kavon was greedy challenging Shy on his prices considering Shy was the first dude to put him on. Before he met him, Kavon was a twenty-year-old, small time drug dealer with a couple of hundred dollars to spare. It was Shy who breathed the drug game in as if it were oxygen and brought Kavon along. Born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, Shy loved letting people know what city he claimed because with the reputation his city had for being violent, he felt it added to his credibility. And to most people it did.

  Now Shy didn’t come from a fucked-up home with both parents absent. It was quite the contrary. His mother, Karen, and father, Erick, were both New York City police officers. He had been raised in a home with law and order. But New York was New York, and despite the morals they bestowed upon him, whenever Shy left his house, all of that shit went out the window. There was nothing for him and his friends to do outside of hanging around drugs and violence. And Shy was a testimony to the old adage that an idle mind is the devil’s workshop.

  No matter what their past, Kavon knew Shy had been charging him extra for the keys a long time ago, but he let it slide. Besides, business was business and Kavon wasn’t asking for handouts nor was he looking for any. But after being approached by a member of another crew, and seeing the offer they placed on the table, he believed a change was in order. Not to mention weed and coke wasn’t moving as fast as crack, the new high of choice.

  “Can’t do it, man,” Shy responded as he continued to eat his meal while talking with his mouth full of food. “I gotta treat you like everybody else. That’s what you always said so I’ma hold you to it.”

  This nigga is lunchin’! Kavon thought. If that’s the way he wanted it, he could suck his dick.

  He jumped up, grabbed his hat and moved toward the exit. If he hurried, he’d still had time to beep Deuce on his pager and tell him he was prepared to accept his offer.

  “A’ight!” Shy’s voice trailed behind him before he reached the door. Although he spoke low, Shy’s voice was loud enough to rise above the din of noises in the restaurant.

  There was a lot of commotion so he stopped to be sure he heard him correctly. For a second he looked at the exit door and contemplated saying, fuck this nigga. But he took pleasure in finally being able to break his greedy ass down. Slowly he turned around and faced him.

  “What?” he said, approaching him slowly, as if he didn’t care either which way, although he did. He trusted Shy and knew he couldn’t say the same for the new cats.

  “I said a’ight, nigga! You got it!” He chewed the last of the food in his mouth. “I’ll give you my special discount.”

  Kavon sat down. Although Shy accepted his offer, Kavon was irritated at his awful display of professionalism. All he wanted was to be able t
o stack chips so he could move his future wife from D.C. to Miami, where she always wanted to live. The plan was to buy a few beachfront properties, which would get Kavon out of the game for good.

  As Kavon stared at Shy, something was eerie about the way he looked at him. They say the evil in a man jumps out for a second and presents itself, when there is so much hate inside that it consumes the body. Kavon couldn’t help but wonder if resentment was what Shy felt for him now. He brushed it off when he remembered that they were bros above everything else, including money.

  “Glad you came to your senses.” Kavon grinned a little. For the first time he was in control. “Now let’s get out of here so we can get some real food.”

  “Cool wit’ me.”

  They left together, but when they got in their rides, they thought about how things ended, and knew in one way or another, things would forever be changed between them.

  Carolyn Jamison

  Upper Marlboro, Maryland

  Choose A Side

  It was seven o’clock in the evening, the time where most people would be eating dinner at home. Not twenty-year-old Carolyn Jamison. She sat quietly in the front row of a secret “Klan of Young Conservatism” rally, which was nothing more than a modern-day Ku Klux Klan organization in Upper Marlboro, Maryland.

  Behind the podium stood her father, wearing a chocolate suit, he controlled the audience’s attention with the vigor and force only a leader could muster. If you placed his voice on mute, still his eyes would say exactly what he stood for…total dominance and control. And when Carolyn’s eyes met her father’s she smiled brightly doing her best to show her support for his cause.