'Schmmp,' S.B. sucks his teeth, "Yes I got you," he said, praying the dope wasn’t really for Muscles.
“So what you need. I need some shit straight up raw with no cut, not more than fifty dollars of it.”
“Muscles, you know how to add cut to that shit? If you don’t I’ll give you some shit that’s already cut. That shit straight up is too strong,” S.B. replied.
“Naw son I’m good, just hook me up with what I asked you for.”
“Alright yo, just wait here,” S.B. walks away and went inside the building and comes out a few minutes later, “Here,” he said while giving Muscles a dap with the small plastic bag of dope in his hand passing it off.
Muscles went in his pocket to peel off fifty dollars.
“Yo Muscles, your money isn’t any good here, that’s on me. I just hope that shit is for a friend. I’ll holler at you,” S.B. said, while giving him a dap and walking away toward the fiends and his man.
Muscles hopped back in the Range Rover and took off, jumping on the highway heading towards Far Rockaway. ‘Damn how shit get so bad. I only wanted to make enough money to pay rent and for Sasha’s Aids medications. Now people been killed and everything has gone wrong, I don’t even spend time with my sisters any more. I’m busy running the damn streets, God forbid Sasha gets sick from her disease and dies while I’m out here running wild. Damn that shit will be too much for me to handle,’ Muscles thought to himself as tears fill his eyes from the thought of Sasha in a hospital bed covered in bed sores like his father, and die. He used his forearm to wipe the tears away so he could see the road clearly.
Chapter 3
He pulls up to Redfern Projects and drives into the parking lot and parks the Range Rover.
‘Just calm the fuck down everything’s going to be alright. I’m done with this shit!’ He said out loud to himself as he jumps out the truck. He looks around at all the crack heads and dope fiends running into the project building to cop their drug of choice from hustlers in the lobby. It was still early and people were going to work, while the hustlers and fiends were the only people out. Muscles began to walk around the projects to look for who he came there for. He knew he’d be out this early, but where? As he walked through the sea of fiends running left and right searching for a high that they will never find, Muscles eyes locked on a man standing next to a bench. The man’s eyes were closed and he was leaning so close to the ground you thought he was going to fall on his back, but he held the position. Muscles always wondered how dope fiends leaned like that and never fell; soon as you think that they will hit the ground, they don’t. Muscles walked over to the man, “Jimmy what’s up!”
Jimmy opens his eyes and leans forward, “Muscles, damn if it isn't my man Muscles, boy I thought I was looking at your father just now. I thought the dope was playing tricks on my ass, but you are looking more and more like him every day.”
Jimmy’s words weighed heavy on Muscles heart. Jimmy was one of the few people from the projects that still remembered his father. “Jimmy we need to talk.”
“Okay youngster talk, let’s shoot the breeze. Hey, you heard what happened out at Bayswater last night, it was like a fucking war zone, they said it was Shells and them crazy ass homicide boys shooting up all them cops then got trapped just to blow themselves up with the police,” Jimmy stated.
“Jimmy I need you to test this dope for me and let me know if it’s any good,” Muscles said while handing Jimmy the small package of dope.
“Damn Muscles, this a lot of dope I get to keep all of this?”
“Yea only if you test it in front of me. Do you have your kit?” Muscles asked already knowing the answer. No dope fiend goes anywhere without their kit, they never know when they will run across the chance to get high so they refuse to miss out and keep their kit on them at all times.
“Yea I got my kit, you want me to do it right here.”
Muscles just shook his head. They both sat down on the brown bench that used to be green from all the years of rain and snow, it now looked doo-doo brown.
Jimmy reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a balled up black beat up rag, he placed it on his lap and slowly unwraps it. Inside of it was a needle that looked like it had been used a million times, and a top from a 40 bottle of beer.
“Hold up Muscles, I have to get some water,” Jimmy said while getting up and walking to the trash can that was next to the bench, he place his hand in it and digs around until he gets what he needed. He pulls out a used bottle of water with a swallow in it and returns back to the bench. He sits back down next to Muscles.
Muscles kept his eyes on Jimmy the whole time as he works his magic. Jimmy opens the bag of dope and placed a nice size amount into the beer top and then pours a little bit of water in it from the bottle of water he got out the trash. With a lighter in one hand and the beer top in the other, he flicks on the lighter and held it under the beer top, moving it back and forth. Muscles watched and wondered how the man didn’t burn his hand from holding the hot beer top; because he was sure it was hot by now.
Jimmy looks at Muscles and read his mind, “Youngster, I been doing this for years, I done got used to it, my skin on my fingers done hardened from all the years of burning them. You see how the dope is cooking with the water, that’s letting me know it’s done,” Jimmy drops the lighter in his lap on the rag and picks up the needle. He places the tip into the beer top and draws up the dope inside the needle then takes out what looks like a large rubber band from the rag and placed the needle in his mouth sideways and bit down on it while he wraps the long rubber band around his arm. He then takes the needle out his mouth and placed the needle on his lap and slaps his arm a few times until he sees a vein pop up. He picks up the needle and slowly inserts the needle in his vein, “You see that right there is a good vein, you see how I draw the blood inside the needle, that’s how I know.”
Jimmy then took a deep breath, “Muscles your father was a good man and would have been proud of you for the way you raised them girls, and you’re a good man, and God forgives you for all your sins, I’m pretty sure you killed a few men, you don’t have to answer me, but I’m sure of it, and God will forgive you for that too,” Jimmy said while pushing the dope into his vein slowly. “But Muscles, my death won’t go under your list, because I chose to take my own life. I’m tired of this life and always chasing that high that I will never find, I know that now,” Jimmy said as the last drop of dope went into his vein. He leaned his head down and then began to violently shake while spit flew out his mouth. The strong raw dope rushed into his system causing him to overdose, killing him. His body finally stops shaking and he sat there with his head down leaning on his chest, with the needle still stuck in his arm and the rubber band still wrapped around it.
Muscles couldn’t believe his ears, the whole time Jimmy knew he was trying to kill him and he still shot up the dope, tears of guilt ran down his face as he got up, he had just killed one of his father’s old time friends, the only one that still said good things about his father. ‘I had to, because I put the house in Bayswater in his name, the cops would have traced it back to him and he would’ve sold you out for a few bags of dope,’ Muscles told himself as he wiped the tears from his eyes, but that didn’t stop the guilt he felt. He looked back at Jimmy’s dead body one last time and quickly made his way to the parking lot and hops in the Range Rover and pulls off. He knew no one noticed him, and Jimmy’s death would look like he overdosed.
Chapter 4
Muscles pulls off heading back to Rockaway Blvd with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Muscles pulls in front of the building and went straight into the apartment.
“Yo, Muscles where did you go?” Homicide asked.
“I had to take care of some business,” Muscles replied while a quick flashback of Jimmy’s dead body on the bench ran in his mind.
“Yo, where are the girls?” Muscles asked seeing Homicide alone on the couch.
“They’re in Nina’s room checkin
g on Luscious wound, but I think they’re just having girl talk,” Homicide said with a smirk.
“Alright cool, I’m going to get them.” Muscles walks to Nina’s room and could hear Luscious, Velvet and Nina talking.
“Hell yea I seen that cute ass nigga with the red Lexus on 130th Avenue and Guy R. Brewer Blvd, but he be acting like his shit don’t stink,” Velvet said.
“Shit as fine as he is it probably doesn’t,” Luscious responded making them all bust out laughing.
Muscles opened the door to see them all on the bed smoking weed and giggling.
“Nina you know you’re not supposed to be smoking,” Muscles said.
“Shit Muscles, after all the shit I seen in the past few months a bitch needs to get high.”
Muscles knew he couldn’t win the argument, because she was right. He was even smoking more because of all the things he had seen and been through in the past few months of his life, so he decides to let it go.
“I need you all in the living room to help me ladies, even you Luscious.”
“Damn, a bitch is shot, you still need her help?”
“You didn’t want my help this morning, down in your boxers,” all the girls bust out laughing, even Muscles.
“Girl stop playing and get your ass ready to help me, I’ll be waiting,” Muscles walked back to the living room.
The woman enters shortly after and sees Muscles grab one of the ten barrels that was lined up against the living room wall. He pops it open and starts to remove all the can food placing them on the floor, until he sees the clear plastic bag.
“Yo Homicide help me.”
“Alright, what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to hold the barrel while I pull out this bag.”
Homicide grabs the barrel and Muscles tips it over just a little bit and grabs the plastic bag inside and pulls while Homicide holds tight on the barrel at the same time.
“Shit, this motherfucker is stuck or heavy!” Muscles yelled while pulling.
“Oh no, not the great Muscles having a problem pulling something, are we losing your strength baby?” Luscious said playfully.
Just then Muscles pulled with all his might and the bag came out and he drops it on the floor, making a loud thump when it hit. Everybody in the room stood there in shock as they looked at the clear bag on the floor. It was neatly stacked piles of 100 dollar bills and 50 dollar bills that came up to Muscle’s knees. Muscles rips open the bag to see the whole pile was wrapped in one big belt while the money stacks were wrapped in rubber bands.
“Wow!” Velvet said.
“Shit is the fucking word girl or more like damn,” Luscious said.
Now everyone in the room could see why the shooters were protecting the apartment so hard, while they had gunmen across the hall ready to kill or die.
“Yo Homicide help me empty the rest.”
“Alright,” Homicide replied.
In a matter of minutes, there were ten clear plastic bags all reaching the same height. Muscles went into his bedroom and inside the closet and removes ten money counting machines, ‘I really have to thank Steve for that connect,’ Muscles thought as he carried them five at a time into the living room.
“Damn, not these again Muscles, didn’t you just blow up the house with the money counters in it, how in the hell did you get more?” Luscious asks.
“Girl I buy extra of everything I get and stop the whining. You, Nina and Velvet sit at the kitchen table and set up the five money counters, while Homicide and I set up in the living room on the coffee table.”
Nina and Luscious both suck their teeth, ‘schmmp,’ the last time they did this they was up to the break of dawn counting money until their butts got sore.
Velvet couldn’t wait to start counting and get her hands on all that money, “I can’t wait to start counting that shit, I don’t know why you two have an attitude,” Velvet said.
“You’ll see,” Nina replied.
In no time, Muscles had bust open all the bags and they all went to work, letting the money machines count the money while they each wrote down their total on a piece of paper.
‘Ring, ring, ring’
“Yes,” Muscles said as he answers the phone and watch the money flip through the money counters and the digit screen telling him the amount.
“Yo it’s me Bones.”
“Yo Bones, where the fuck you at and what happened last night? No! No! As a matter of fact, don’t tell me over the phone.”
“Yo Muscles I’m straight, I’ll tell you everything later, just not over the phone. I just want you to know I’m good, I’m over at big booty Kim’s house.”
Muscles smiled, because everybody knew who big booty Kim was or even hit it or was trying to hit it, because no one could pass on her fat ass. Even Muscles tapped it once, but once she found out he didn’t have money to spend on her ass, they never hooked up again.
“Yo Muscles you hear me?”
Muscles snapped back to reality, “Naw dawg, say that again.”
“Yo I’m going to stay over here for a few days. I’m a little leery on leaving her crib right now if you know what I mean.”
Muscles knew what he meant; he knew the cops were still in the hood looking for suspects after last night. South Ozone was on fire; as a matter of fact the whole Queens was hot with police and Feds everywhere. It just brought back the thought of what happened last night to Muscles mind and all those people dying.
“Alright Bones, call me if you need anything.”
“Alright, one,” Bones replied and the phone went dead.
Muscles placed his phone back on his hip and went back to work, counting the money.
‘Ring, ring, ring,’
“Damn!” Muscles yelled while taking the phone off his waist and answering it, while wrapping a stack of money in rubber bands.
“Yo it’s me,” Muscles already knew who it was by the sound of the person’s voice.
“Lil Homicide, what’s good?”
Homicide looked at Muscles when he heard him say his little brother’s name.
“Yo we’re straight, but we been watching the news while boxing those things, shit sounds really fucked up.”
“Yea, shit is,” Muscles replied.
“Yo, I need y’all to stay out there for a few days; it’s too hot in Queens right now. Y’all are good over there, there’s a blue Chevy Caprice in the garage if you need to get around to the store or buy food, but other than that I will come and pick you up myself in a few days, alright.”
“Yea Muscles, we got you.”
“Yo, it’s taking forever to box those things man,” Lil Homicide replied as he tapes another box close with duct tape.
“Did you get rid of the UPS truck,” Muscles ask.
“Naw, not yet, we had no wheels, but now we know where the car is, I’ll get right on it.”
“Alright, I holler at you later, and don’t smoke too much,” Muscles replied.
“Hahaha!” they both bust out laughing.
Lil Homicide hung up the phone.
“So what that nigga said,” Killer asked while placing a block of weed, that had to be 50 pounds compressed, into a box big enough to fit a 20 inch TV.
“He said stay low and chill here for a while, and get rid of those trucks tonight, he didn’t say anything about Shells and them. You know he don’t talk over the phone, but shit, we got the info we needed right from the news, so we already know what it is.
“Yo, them niggaz went out like ‘G’s, I say we buy a bottle of Hennessy tonight and drink for them and pour out a little liquor,” Tommy Gunz stated.
“I’m cool with that,” Lil Homicide said.
“Hey I’m straight with that too,” Killer responded.
“Yo, did you tell Muscles we been boxing these pounds all night and we still not even close to done,” Killer stated.
“Yea he knows, but since we’re going to be out here for a few days we can take our time, and I saw a PlayStation 3 and
some games in one of the bedrooms upstairs, we can bring that shit down here and hook it up to the 40 inch flat screen and that should kill some time, and he knows we done opened one of the bags and is smoking.”
“Word!” Killer said.
“Yea, that niggaz not stupid, but he’s cool with it, shit look at all this weed.”
All three men look around the living room at the big bags filled with compressed pounds of weed and the ones they already put in the cardboard boxes. The boxes and bags took up all the space in the living room, just leaving them with the couch and flat screen TV on the wall in front of them.
“Come on let’s keep boxing this shit so we can have a little bit more room in this motherfucker.”
With that said, they went back to work on the matter at hand.
Chapter 5
“Ahhhh!” Agent Frank moans as he tries to reach for the cup of water on the tray in front of him.
He sat up in a bed with his head wrapped in a bandage and with his right arm broken with a cast on it, and his left wrist broken. He was amazed that he was still alive. The blast from the bomb that day, not only blew up the house, but blew up half the side of the truck he was in and flipped it over on its side, killing five F.B.I. agents inside and the technical engineer who controlled the cameras. The blast had knocked him out and he woke up in the Jamaica Queens Hospital.
‘Damn how did so much go wrong, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I’m supposed to take down the Junkyard Crew and collect the evidence from the house after taking the suspects of the robberies down, damn!’ Frank thought to himself.
Just then, the door flew open and Frank was now looking at the Director of F.B.I., Thomas and Deputy Director Bill. “Agent Frank, how are you feeling?” Director Thomas asks.
Frank looks up at his waiting boss and knew this couldn’t be good. His boss barely left his office to come out and work in the field. “I’m ok,” Agent Frank replied nervously.
FOR THE LOVE OF MY SISTERS 2 Page 2
