by K'wan
Gloria spent as much time as she could with the boy before turning herself in. The state wanted to take the boy, but she was able to find an aunt who would take him in for a small fee. While in prison, Gloria counted the days until she would be reunited with her child, but a beating from a CO who she refused to sleep with stole that chance from her. In 1991, Gloria died from massive head trauma, never getting to know her son.
Two years ago there were many unsolved murders committed in New York City, but two were of particular interest to True’s crew. The first victim was a former corrections officer and the second was a washed-up dope fiend who was said to run with True’s mother back in the day. The police conducted an investigation, but when it was all said and done, neither were really missed.
“That muthafucka spits,” Lex said, passing the blunt off to Don B.
Don B. accepted the blunt and inhaled deeply. “Y’all niggaz need to take notes. I told you, listen to my direction and I’m gonna make you stars.”
“I’m already a fucking star,” Pain said arrogantly.
“Pain, shut the fuck up. You ain’t gonna be shit but a number if you don’t stop catching cases,” Don B. told him.
“A nigga gotta eat.”
“Eat? Don’t I keep you niggaz well fed and fresh? Come on with that bullshit, Pain. I’m trying to give ya life a fucking purpose, so stop throwing fucking stones at the pen. These lawyers ain’t cheap, and one of these days it’s gonna take more than a slick-talking Jew and money to get your ass out of trouble.”
“I ain’t no stranger to a bid. If I was to have to do some more time, I’d just write like ten more albums,” Pain said ignorantly.
“A nigga in a cage can’t get no money,” Don B. told him.
“Or no pussy,” Lex added.
Don B. lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings into the air. “You niggaz need to stop running your mouths and go over your verses. We got a show tonight and I need you to be on point.”
“I’m always on point, kid,” Pain said.
“Nigga, stop fronting. You’ll be the main one to forget your verse,” Lex teased him.
“Fuck you, nigga. I’m the muthafucking freestyle king of New York,” Pain boasted. “Yo, Don, what up wit’ that freak y’all niggaz popped off this morning?” he said, changing the subject.
“Yo, shorty head game was fire!” Don B. recalled. “She even let Tone and them niggaz hit it.”
“Damn, I’m tight I missed that one,” Lex said.
“Don’t sweat it. She’s a neighborhood chick, so we’ll bump into her again.” Don B. grinned and went back to watching True in the booth.
“Yo, I gotta get up outta here,” Pain said, looking at his watch.
“Where the fuck is you going? Dawg, we still got work to do,” Don B. reminded him.
“I’m gonna come back and lay my vocals, but I got something I need to take care of.”
“Pain, I know you ain’t dipping out of a session for no pussy?” Lex asked, clearly not feeling Pain’s early departure.
Pain smiled broadly. “Never that. I told my moms I would do something for her. I’ll be back.”
“Yo, Pain, I don’t give a fuck what you gotta do, just make sure your ass is on time for the show tonight.”
“My dude, I said I’ll be back,” Pain said as if he was catching an attitude. He walked out of the studio and anxiously tapped the elevator call button. His finger came away from the steel button leaving a sweaty fingerprint. Pain wiped his hands against his pants in an attempt to dry them. Just a short cab ride and I’m good, he told himself, stepping into the elevator.
15
“What do you think of these?” Yoshi held up a pair of fire engine red boots.
“The heel is too high for my taste,” Billy grumbled.
“It’s only two inches,” Yoshi said, examining the price and putting them back. “I need to get something to wear to Exit tonight.” Yoshi took another pair of shoes off the shelf and asked one of the employees to bring her a size seven.
“Why don’t you wear something you already have?” Billy suggested.
Yoshi looked at her and twisted her lips. “Billy, you can’t be serious. You know how many niggaz in there are gonna be holding? I can’t show up in there looking half-ass. What you need to do is see if they got one of these in your size.” Yoshi handed Billy a black dress with spaghetti straps.
Billy held the dress against her and performed a visual fitting. “Nah, this ain’t really my style. Yoshi, you know I ain’t trying to go to the club with my back all out.”
“Billy, you need to knock it off,” Yoshi said, snatching that dress from Billy and picking up one that was her size. “This dress would look hot on you and you know it.”
Billy took the second dress and looked it over. “I can’t front, this is a hot dress. I just be feeling some type of way about my weight lately. Look how big my ass has gotten.” She turned around so Yoshi could see her onion.
“Billy, you sound like a white girl,” Yoshi teased her. “Baby girl, ass is good. Guys love a woman with junk in her trunk. You see how these niggaz be jumping out the window over this?” Yoshi slapped her palm against her own onion, drawing a hungry look from a gentleman helping a fat woman into a wedge sandal. “See what I mean,” she said and winked at Billy.
Billy glared at the employee, causing him to turn his head away. “Ain’t none of these niggaz shit. When it’s all said and done, they’re all out for the same thing.”
“Billy, why are you so fucking morbid when it comes to the subject of men? That’s why muthafuckas think you a dyke.”
“Please, you think I give a fuck what people think about me? You know I ain’t no fucking dyke.” Billy looked for Yoshi to agree with her statement, but only found a raised eyebrow. “What’re you looking at me like that for? Yoshi, I know you don’t believe that dyke shit.”
“Billy, you’ve been my girl for longer than any of us have been hanging, so you know I ain’t gonna bullshit you. I know.”
Billy folded her arms. “You know what?”
“Do I need to say it?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“You got a little sugar in you, ma,” Yoshi said flatly.
“You can’t be serious. Yoshi, you know me and you know I’ve been with guys.”
“Yeah, Billy, I know you ain’t no virgin to dick, but I don’t think you too much care for it. I ain’t seen you with a nigga since, Sol, God bless.”
“I’ve dated a few guys.”
“Billy, dating and getting your fuck on are two different things. You and me have always been the prettiest of the crew. Rhonda and Reese couldn’t never fuck with us, as far as clothes or looks. These niggaz used to be sick over you, ma. But now you on some other shit. I don’t know if it was Sol’s death, or some knucklehead nigga breaking your heart, but you gotta shake that shit off, Billy. The world is too big and there’s way too much dick out here for you to have to go that route.”
“Yoshi, you’re just like them bitches Reese and Rhonda. All of y’all think you know some shit,” Billy said, becoming very defensive.
Yoshi continued to stare at her seriously. “On the real, I know you’ve seen what the other half was like, but that ain’t none of nobody’s business but yours. I love you the same. I’m just wondering, what made you go there?”
Yoshi had definitely struck a nerve. Billy had always held her heart close to her chest, but Yoshi had known her for a very long time. “Yo, when Sol got killed, I was fucking up behind it. I mean … we were both young, but there was no doubt that we loved each other. During the time I was mourning him, I had niggaz offering me their condolences and shit, like they were sorry to see Sol go. He had blocked their game in life and was still doing it in death, because all them niggaz wanted to fuck and I was dead loyal to my man.”
“Billy, I can only imagine how you must’ve felt,” Yoshi said sympathetically.
Billy looked at Yoshi with partially glazed eyes and shoo
k her head. “No, you can’t. Sol wasn’t just some nigga I was fucking, he was chosen. God put him here to be a Divine reflection of me, Yoshi. Not having him felt like someone had chopped off one of my limbs: sometimes you still feel it, even though there’s nothing there.”
Yoshi averted Billy’s gaze when it fell on her. To see her so exposed made Yoshi somewhat uncomfortable. She was used to Billy being the hard, emotionally in control member of their group, but watching the tears well up in her eyes brought a lump to Yoshi’s throat.
Billy absently thumbed the heel of a shoe someone had abandoned as she continued her sad tale. “He said he would be there for us against all odds. I guess a bullet didn’t factor into the promise.” Seeing the confused look on Yoshi’s face, Billy decided to enlighten her. “I was six weeks pregnant the day Sol was killed.”
“I didn’t know,” Yoshi said with watery eyes.
“No one did, Yoshi. I had just told him and we decided to keep it a secret until we decided what we were gonna do. When he died, the decision became clear.”
“Billy, you had an abortion?” Yoshi asked in disbelief.
Billy looked at her friend very seriously. “What would you have done? Yoshi, I was a child myself at the time. With Sol and me together, we might’ve been able to do it, but just me? I wasn’t gonna be out here on welfare, barely able to take care of mine like Rhonda. The choice to keep the baby would’ve been crueler than the one I made.”
“You did what you had to do, Billy.”
“I guess.” She shrugged. “I always wonder what if, but I know I can’t get either of those lives back. For a long time after I kept reinventing myself, trying to find somewhere to belong. I can’t front, I’ve done some things that most of y’all might not agree with, but I’m still me when it’s all said and done. Everybody running around thinking they know what’s up with Billy, when Billy doesn’t even know what’s up with herself.”
A heavy silence hung between the two friends, which Yoshi decided to break by asking, “So how many women have you slept with?” Both of them nearly fell over the rack of dresses laughing, drawing the attention of the store manager, as well as the rent-a-cop playing the front door.
“We better pay for our shit and go, before Roscoe P. Coltrane locks us up for shoplifting.” Yoshi nodded over at the security guard. “Plus, we gotta head over to the electronics store to meet Rhonda and Reese.”
“Ain’t no need to rush. You know them hos ain’t never on time,” Billy said.
“I know. Reese is slow as hell and Rhonda is always getting caught up with her bad-ass kids.”
“Cut it out, Yoshi. Them kids is all right.”
“Billy, are we talking about the same kids? P.J. is sneaky-ass hell to be so little and Pooh is hardheaded. Alisha is another story altogether.”
“She’s a preteen, she’s supposed to be feeling herself.”
“Fuck all that, the little bitch is straight-up grown,” Yoshi declared, placing the items on the counter. As she waited for the girl behind the register to finish ringing up her purchases, she noticed that a guy standing two registers down was staring at her. Yoshi, being who she was, turned around and looked him up and down in a stink way. He finished paying for his stuff and made his way toward her. She immediately dipped her hand in her purse to retrieve the razor she carried in case he wanted trouble.
“Excuse me,” he said, slowing his approach. “I don’t mean to stare, but don’t we know each other?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, looking up at the six-three chocolate cat, who was built like he played for some pro team.
“Your name is China, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes,” Yoshi said suspiciously. China was the name she sometimes went by when she was dancing.
“I’m Nel,” he said and extended his hand. “You probably don’t remember me, but we met at Pussy Cat. I spent quite a bit of paper with you that night.” He chuckled.
“The Pussy Cat is a big place, sweetie. A lot of people come in and out of there and drop paper on the kid. Was there something special about you that I should remember?”
“Guess not.” His smile threatened to fade, but he held it. “Listen, I didn’t mean no disrespect, love. I just wanted to extend a dinner invitation. You know, on some friendly shit.”
“Nah, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”
“Baby girl, don’t be fooled by my appearance.” He gestured toward his outfit, which consisted of jeans and sneakers with a white T-shirt. “I ain’t no hustler, I work for transit. I just wanna get to know a nice young lady.”
Yoshi looked him over and had to admit that he was fine as hell, but she knew it couldn’t go down. “Nothing personal, boo, but I don’t date guys I meet at the club.” Yoshi picked up her bags and motioned to Billy that she was ready to go. When they had made it to the exit, he called behind Yoshi.
“So if we had met on the street you would’ve accepted?”
Yoshi stopped short and gave him a look that said, “I’d fuck the shit outta you,” but replied, “We didn’t meet on the street, so I guess that makes the question irrelevant.” With a flirtatious wink, she left him standing there smirking.
* * *
Reese followed Rhonda down Third Avenue, in the Bronx, as she floated toward yet another store. They had been on the avenue for over an hour and still hadn’t gotten to the spot where they were supposed to meet Yoshi and Billy. Reese stood by and watched Rhonda run through the bread that Von had given her, buying things not because she needed them, but because she could. There was a part of Reese that hated Rhonda for that. Here she was, trying to make ends meet the best way she could, and Rhonda was pimping niggaz as well as the system to live above the average.
“Rhonda, don’t you think you’ve done enough shopping? We gotta meet Yoshi and Billy,” Reese pointed out.
“I know, I know. I just wanna look in this store right quick to see if I can find me a shirt.”
“You bought a shirt in the store we just left,” Reese reminded her.
“Come on, Reese, I didn’t come up here with you so you could rush me. I gotta make sure my fit is tight for tonight.”
“Tonight? What’s going down tonight?” Reese asked, clueless as to what Rhonda was talking about.
“Reese, have you been vacationing on another planet? The party at Exit is popping off. True and his peoples are performing. Don B. is footing the bill and everybody is gonna be there. Reese, how you gonna fuck a nigga and he ain’t even tell you he was throwing the party of the summer the following night?”
“Oh … Don B. mentioned it to me, but it slipped my mind,” Reese lied. “I already got my fit, but I do need to snatch some shoes. Come with me over here,” Reese said, heading into the nearest shoe store. The two girls made conversation while Reese selected a pair of shoes for the party. She felt kind of dissed that Don B. hadn’t invited her to the party, but she told herself that they were all too fucked up to think about it. She had had her fifteen minutes of fame and shame and was good on both, but Rhonda kept bringing it up. She knew that deep down Rhonda was jealous that she had fucked Don B. Sure, she popped off with True, but he wasn’t the Don. Rhonda was used to having one up on Reese when it came to men, but this time the tables had been turned.
“I wonder what Yoshi and them is gonna wear to the party?” Reese said offhandedly.
“You know Yoshi like to have all the light on her, so she probably gonna wear some freak shit. And that bitch Billy will probably be wearing a suit from the Men’s Warehouse,” Rhonda said sarcastically.
“Why you always got some slick shit to say about Billy? You hang with her every day, but you stay talking about her.”
“What you getting so defensive about? You act like you bumping cats wit’ the bitch, Reese.”
Reese snaked her neck. “Don’t play with me, bitch. You know I only do dick.”
“That’s the same thing ya girl be saying.”
“Rhonda, do you really think Billy is a d
yke?”
Rhonda thought about it for a moment before answering. “Yo, you know I got mad love for Billy, but I heard some shit that’s making me wonder if ol’ girl really dines at the Y.”
“What you heard?” Reese asked, not bothering to hide her anticipation to hear the latest hood gossip.
“Reese, if I tell you this, I swear to God, you better not open your mouth,” Rhonda told her seriously.
“Come on, Rhonda, this shit is gonna stay between us,” Reese assured her.
“Well, you know Billy been hanging with them dyke bitches since back in her varsity days in high school, as far as we know, on some cool shit.”
“Yeah, that ho Jean and her peoples.”
“Anyhow, this was supposed to have happened around the anniversary of Sol’s death and you know how Billy gets all sad and shit around that time of year. She was supposed to have been getting bent with Jean and this bitch from the Lenox Terrace. I can’t think of her name, but you know her when you see her. Real pretty bitch with long hair and—”
“Get on with the story, Rhonda!”
“Like I was saying, in the midst of all this drinking and smoking, the pretty bitch starts getting all touchy with Billy. It was supposedly on some old comfort shit, but you know how them bitches do. Well, this is just what I heard, but one thing was supposed to have led to another and they had a threesome.”
Reese looked at Rhonda wide-eyed. “You need to stop lying!”
“I’m dead-ass! You know my brother Kelvin is a faggot, so he runs in those circles. He was supposed to had got the story from a girl who goes to school with Jean’s little sister, who heard her telling someone on the phone.”
“I knew it!” Reese jumped up and down. She drew some funny looks, but ignored them. “Ain’t no way she was hanging with all them dyke hos and not getting down.”
“If you ask me, I think her and Yoshi are eating each other’s pussies,” Rhonda continued. “Them bitches seem a little tighter than they should be.”
