Clown Niggas

by T. Styles

  “Tawny, please talk to me.” She placed her other hand on her shoulder. “I thought you were doing good. I thought you were clean. It’s the only reason I came over.”

  “Well I wish you didn’t. Oh my God, Amelia. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here at all,” she chanted.

  Amelia dropped the cloth in the water causing it to splash. She looked at her ungrateful cousin and frowned. “So you beg me to come over this dump and now you ask me why I’m here? Fuck is wrong with you? Is this some type of sick game? Where you force me to relive the past while having to smell your trash ass pussy too?”

  Tawny tilted her head so that her right cheek was still on her knee, but eyes were on Amelia. “I wish you hadn’t listened to me when I called. You never listen to me, Amelia.” She wept harder. “Every time I’ve tried to talk to you, you brush me off. What changed now? Why are you even here?”

  “Tawny, I’m confused. Unless you want me to hate you, you’d better say something that makes sense.”

  She sighed. “Ryan told me to tell you those lies. He told me to do whatever I had to get you over here and deep down I thought you wouldn’t come. I prayed for the first time ever that you wouldn’t come. But now you’re here.”

  Amelia could hear her heart beating. “I don’t understand what you’re saying!” When Tawny didn’t answer Amelia smacked her in the face. “Answer me got damn it!”

  Tawny held the side of her burning cheek just as Ryan appeared in the bathroom doorway. Frightened, Amelia rose to her feet and backed up, tripping over the toilet bowl behind her. “Why are you here?” she asked. “Who let you in?”

  “Don’t be that way. I told you we would be reunited, Amelia. And that time is now.”

  Ryan sat on the living room sofa while Amelia stood on her knees, in front of her a table full of crack. A few inches from the pile was Amelia’s cell phone which rang repeatedly with Wyld’s face appearing as he was attempting to reach her.

  “I know you thought I would kill you but that’s not the case. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want you to feel better because it’s been too long since you had your fix. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Amelia’s body trembled as she looked at the pile of plastic gold. Sweat poured from her pores and her cravings seemed to ignite her best-hidden addiction causing her pussy to glisten and her veins to pulsate.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, as her eyes remained on the drugs. “I fought so hard to stay away from this. Why do this to me now?”

  “Instead of asking why you should stop fighting, Amelia. You’re an addict. And that’s okay. Don’t be ashamed.” He lowered his head so that his wet lips were against her ear. “Go, ‘head and suck that glass dick. Get high and feel good about yourself.” He moved to the other ear. “Look at it, sitting on the table begging you to hold it. To inhale it, to feel it.” He smiled. “Shit, as good as it looks I might hit it with you.” He crawled behind her and opened his legs so that she was sitting between them, both facing the table. “Do it, Amelia.” He ran his hand up her blouse and squeezed her right nipple. “Hit that shit, baby. Let me see you do it.”

  Amelia’s entire body was ignited with passion as he kissed her neck. Suddenly his touch didn’t feel so disgusting. In the throws of her addiction, Ryan Heart felt just right.

  Ryan walked behind Spyrit as he moved deeper into a patch of thick green woodland in Virginia. “So this is it?” Spyrit asked, finding it difficult to step over the branches due to the uneven ground and the cane he was using to remain erect. “You gonna kill me like this? Like we not even family?”

  Ryan laughed. “I should’ve done it before. On that day in the kitchen. I know I tried but for some reason guilt set in and I made the call to the ambulance. But that won’t happen this time.”

  “Can you at least tell me why you’re doing this? You snatch me from in front of my doctor’s office, bring me here and don’t tell me shit. If I’m about to die I deserve to at least know the truth.”

  Ryan stood before him. “Did you know? About Wyld?”

  “Ryan, why—”

  “DID YOU FUCKING KNOW OR NOT?” He yelled, spit flying from his mouth.

  “I knew but there was nothing we could do. We were kids. All of us.” He paused. “But I’m begging you to please not do this, man. We may have had our differences but I’ve always loved you. Spare my life, Ryan. Please.”

  Ryan laughed. “Sorry, but I can’t do shit for you.” He fired twice in his face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Wyld

  “If You Worried About Ryan Do Yourself A Favor And Put That Nigga Out Your Mind.”

  Wyld was drinking coffee in his house to stay up after dropping E.M. off in North Carolina because she was staying with relatives. With all the beef circulating in B-more he wanted her as far away from the scene as possible, believing things would get more murderous before better.

  A few of his young block hustler’s let him know that they saw Ryan walking down the street although they didn’t know where he was coming or going. Since they were young and without direction they chose to chant DEAD MAN WALKING instead of bringing the words to fruition and placing a bullet in his dome.

  When asked why one of them said, “I didn’t want to be the nigga who killed your cousin. In case you changed your mind and got mad at me.”

  Wyld left the scene knowing that he would have to put more experienced men on the street if he wanted things done properly. Which was already in motion. To make his woes worse, he didn’t know where Spyrit or Amelia were but he vowed to find out soon.

  He was about to warm up three day leftover meatloaf when there was a knock at the door. Slowly he approached with his fingers on the handle of the gun tucked in the back of his jeans. When he saw Spyrit’s ex-girl he thought he was seeing things. After all, it was the second time she visited without an invite. Once about the dog in the trunk situation and the other time now.

  She was a pest at best.

  “Fuck you doing here, Quay?” He asked through the closed door. “’Cause I’m busy these days.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you again, Wyld. But it’s about your girlfriend, Amelia. I have some information you may want to know.”

  Wyld yanked the door open, sat the barrel on her upper lip and snatched her inside. Looking left and right quickly before slamming the door he pushed her up against the wall and she burped. “Fuck you talking about?”

  With raised arms in the air, palms in his direction she said, “I saw Ryan rolling around with Amelia in his car earlier tonight. She looked real bad and I don’t know what to do. That’s why I’m here.” Tears rolled down her face, a product of extreme fear. She never saw Wyld liked this.

  He glared. “Take me to where you last saw her! NOW!”

  Wyld and Quaykiesha drove for hours looking for Ryan’s car with no luck. He had twenty men on the streets and as far as he knew nothing materialized as of yet. He was certain he would find them but it was a matter of time, which he didn’t have a lot of. Wyld reasoned that although he was hunting Ryan, Ryan was probably hunting him also so he had to be smart in his efforts.

  After a few miles, he figured if he were going to be successful it would be best to get off the streets to give Ryan the impression that he was safe and that all was well in the city. Defeated, and with no more information, Wyld and Quaykiesha sulked back into his house.

  Once inside he flopped on the sofa and sighed. He was doing too much, too quickly, while making no progress. It was as if he’d been on a constant mental rollercoaster that suddenly stopped at the top.

  What was he gonna do next when he didn’t even know where to start? As much as he hated to admit it Ryan was getting the best of him and he had to pull himself together if he planned to win.

  His stomach rumbled as he realized with driving E.M. out of town and running around he hadn’t eaten a bite. Cooking was the last thing on his mind but luckily Quaykiesha offered to prepare something quick. And after
thirty minutes in the kitchen she returned with fries, hot dogs and a cup of ice apple juice with just the right amount of Hennessey.

  He had to admit when she returned with two plates he didn’t realize he had all of that food in the house and figured either E.M. or Spyrit shopped earlier in the week. The kind gesture hurt. His stomach ached with pain when he realized he was quickly losing everyone he loved.

  Quaykiesha handed him his plate and kept the other for herself before sitting next to him, close enough so that her knee rested against his for moral support. Taking a bite of his hot dog he said, “Tell me what went down again? When you saw the boy Ryan? I wanna make sure you didn’t miss anything.”

  She was chewing a fry but sat her plate on the floor to answer his question clearly. With a jaw full of food she turned toward him. “I was on my way to my mother’s house, off Liberty Road when I saw Ryan stuffing her in the backseat of his car.” She swallowed the food. “I tried to follow him but he took off real fast. I can’t be sure but I think he may have saw me.”

  He looked out into the living room. “And what kind of car did he have again?”

  “The black bucket he just bought. The one he uses to make runs…with the Delaware tags.”

  He nodded. “This nigga lost it. Fucking lost it!”

  Satisfied with her own response she picked her plate up and ate again. “I know, but he’s always been that way.” She shrugged. “To me at least. I just wanted you to know what was going on because I knew what happened to Anna. I really am sorry, Wyld.”

  “I don’t know what this nigga is on but I’m losing patience.” He growled.

  “I wish it was some—”

  Suddenly a cool sensation took over the muscle tissue of the right side of Quaykiesha’s face. Lasting for only a second she was quickly introduced to a new feeling. A burning sensation, directly thereafter. This excruciating torment was only soothed by the trail of warm blood that trickles from her forehead to her lips.

  It took her a moment to realize Wyld cracked her over the head with the yellow porcelain plate she’d just given him, opening her flesh. A lump of hotdog meat sat in her cleavage, his fries in her lap. She fought to understand what was happening and why he would hurt her so savagely. But that thought was fleeting as he gripped her throat. “How did you know my girl’s name?”

  He squeezed tighter.

  “Before you lie to me understand that I’m the nigga who needs convincing on why I shouldn’t take your life. So if you worried about Ryan do yourself a favor and put that nigga out your mind.” He paused. “Now how did you know who I was with?”

  She parted her lips but her words were inaudible. The pressure he placed on her larynx made each sound exit dry and floppy. Realizing this, he let her go and said, “Talk, bitch.”

  She coughed several times and rubbed her throbbing throat. “Spyrit…Spyrit told me.”

  His nostrils flared. “That still doesn’t explain how you knew what she looked like.”

  Trembling she said, “She was at my house earlier.”

  His eyebrows rose and his light skin burned with fire. “So the whole time you had me running around Baltimore like a fucking cab, when you had the whereabouts on my bitch the entire time? ARE YOU SUICIDAL?”

  She shook her head quickly from left to right. “No…but I am scared…” she whispered.

  He paced the floor as she jumped back; worried he was about to inflict more injury. And as enraged as he was she was smart as a mothafucka in that moment. “Why did you do this?” he asked. “Why play these type of games with a nigga who can erase your memories?”

  Silence.

  “OPEN YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, SLUT!” His breaths were heavy and he looked as if he were about to explode.

  She dreamed about having him standing before her but not in this way. In her visions his dick was in her mouth.

  “Because I like you.” She sobbed, her voice trembling. “And I knew what he was doing was wrong.” Blood emptied into her mouth as she spoke, turning her teeth a subtle pink. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Wyld. I promise.”

  He laughed. “You like me but you pull this type shit? When you know I’d be well within my rights to kill you!”

  Silence.

  Before she could speak he grabbed her by her silver and blue braids and dragged her toward the door like last week’s trash. “You taking me to your house. “Now!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Wyld

  “Speak In Longer Sentences. We Not Tweeting, Nigga.”

  Wyld had been to Quaykiesha’s house and still he couldn’t find Ryan or Amelia. Any other time he’d be hard pressed not to run into a dude he knew. But now that he was hunting one Baltimore went mum, driving him insane.

  Instead of killing Quaykiesha like he planned, he paid six of his beefiest home girls to put an Official on her that she wouldn’t soon forget. Last he heard she was in the hospital nursing six cracked bones, two hundred stitches and a broken heart.

  Wyld hadn’t eaten or slept since he gave the order on Quay and his body was weak. With Amelia gone and no word from Spyrit he needed to refresh his self but it seemed like it was impossible. His mind wandered and his heart thumped as he considered his fate.

  Losing everybody he held dear was becoming more of a reality.

  The birds were singing loudly and he was about to catch a couple hours of sleep when he heard someone pull up in front of his house. Hand on his weapon while peering out the window he noticed Bosh’s car. He realized sleep would miss him again.

  Walking outside he approached the vehicle with caution. With everything going on he couldn’t trust anyone. Once there he noticed so much blood sprayed on the window that at first he thought they were tinted red. But when Bosh rolled down the glass everything became clear. Wyld glanced inside at Emilio who was sitting in the passenger seat fucked up.

  He was beaten so badly that his right eye was completely swollen and the left was losing its patience, threatening to officially cancel his sight.

  “He’s ready to talk, Boss,” Bosh said with all confidence. “It took a minute but I think he’s ready to come clean now.” He looked at Emilio. “Aren’t you?”

  Emilio sat on Wyld’s sofa with a hard frozen chicken breast pressed against his worst eye, which was hard to select when he first got the meat since both orbits were punched and swollen. Wyld stood in front of him while Bosh hung behind waiting for the word.

  “Details,” Wyld said, breaths heavy, hands clutched. “I’m waiting.”

  Emilio exhaled. “There was a party,” he started, “And I wasn’t there but you all were. That’s the day that changed everything.”

  “You all?” Wyld repeated. “Speak in longer sentences. We not tweeting, nigga.”

  “Your mother. Your aunts. And Spyrit. I’m talking about all of you.”

  17 YEARS EARLIER

  (1999)

  Gracie stood in the middle of the floor dancing in front of James to Ginuwine’s ‘So Anxious’. Diane, Helen, Liza and Andre were there also passing a blunt while the children; Wyld, Spyrit and Victoria were in the bedrooms sleep.

  The liquor was pouring and the music was blasting and everyone was feeling good and ready to spark up another until someone knocked. Not knowing who it was at first; Diane made a mistake of opening the door wide.

  She regretted it instantly.

  The smile on her face evaporated when she saw her brother Kante’ Harper who had recently been released from prison.

  “Aye, sis,” Kante’ said as he remained in the dark hallway, his skin as black and beautiful as the night. “I missed you. I hope you missed me?”

  Seeing the handsome man with a five o’clock shadow and dangerously good looks, Gracie approached the door, standing behind Diane. “Did he say sis?” she asked Diane although looking at him. “I didn’t know you had a brother this fucking sexy.” She licked her lips and caught every grove of his prison-sculpted physique under his fresh white t-shirt. “I didn’t know you had a
brother at all.”

  Kante’ used her interest in him as a reason to step deeper into his sister’s home although he was clearly uninvited. Diane closed the door and trudged behind Gracie and her brother. “I was away,” Kante’ said before looking from the curves of Gracie’s hips to the plushness of her bottom lip. “But I’m glad to be back now. Especially after looking at something as fine as you.”

  Knowing she had his attention she turned up the whore-ism she was known in Baltimore for. “Where were you all my life?” Gracie asked. “That’s all I wanna know.”

  Kante’ looked back at Diane and then at Grace. “College. Getting an education on life.”

  Gracie’s eyes widened at the realization that she was about to bag an educated man, something she never thought was possible due to her slutty ways. “I see…” she placed her hands on her hips to accent them more. “And just what were you taking up?”

  “Psychology.”

  “Is that right,” She cooed. “And what do you know about me already?” she asked grabbing a hold of his collar.

  Believing her friend was five seconds from serving up the pussy in a bowl with no milk, Diane butted in. “Kante’, we having a private party now. Come back later and we’ll talk alone.”

  Gracie frowned. “Come back later?” She repeated with an attitude. “What would he do that for when I’m here now? We don’t mind making room for an extra person. Especially if he kin.” Gracie looped her arm through Kante’s as if she just purchased him and he belonged to her. “And as fine as him.”

  “Gracie, let me talk to you for a minute.” Diane said urgently. “In private.”