by K'wan
“What you mean?” Droopy played dumb like he didn’t know what Li’l Monk was talking about.
Li’l Monk stopped and stood directly in front of Droopy, clasping his hands in front of him. There were no signs of mirth in his eyes. “Droopy, you really wanna play this game with me?”
Droopy looked down at Li’l Monk’s scarred and blackened knuckles. The scrapes and bruises told the story of what those hands had been through. “Nah,” he conceded. Li’l Monk gave him one last hard look before continuing his walk.
“Droopy, I know you heard me loud and clear the last time I told you that I didn’t want your young ass out here pitching stones, so I’m trying to figure out why you back out here like my word ain’t no good?” Li’l Monk asked as they approached the building.
“Li’l Monk, you know your word is golden with me, but feel my pain. I’m just out here trying to get a hot meal like everyone else. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem is that you’re thirteen years old trying to play adult games,” Li’l Monk shot back. “God forbid if something were to happen to you, we’d all be done off for letting you rock. At your age you should be in school trying to lean some shit instead of being on the block fucking around with us.”
“I dig where you’re coming from, but let me ask you a question, have you ever tried focusing on school work when you can’t hear the teacher over the sound of your own stomach growling? I don’t know my daddy and my mama died of the monster. My auntie get a check every month to take care of me, but I don’t ever see a dime of that money because she tricks it all off on liquor and niggas. Li’l Monk, I know where you’re coming from and I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but to keep it real, I’m tired of not having. If I can’t get money out here with y’all, I’m just gonna go find somebody else who’ll let me work. Whether I wanna be or not, I’m out here because I ain’t got no choice.”
Li’l Monk regarded Droopy. Normally he was popping slick and trying to play tough, but at that moment he dropped the façade Li’l Monk saw him for exactly what he was: a scared kid who was trying to not get swallowed up by the world. Droopy’s story hit close to home with Li’l Monk, because he knew exactly how it felt to be hungry and desperate.
“A’ight, Droopy.” Li’l Monk sighed. “I’m gonna allow you to get a few dollars out here so you can feed yourself, but I don’t want you touching no drugs. You can play lookout or run errands, but keep your little ass away from the work, you understand?”
Droopy smiled. “I got you, man. And thanks.”
“Oh, there’s one catch.”
Droopy looked suspicious. “What?”
“You can only hustle after school. Between the hours of eight a.m. and three p.m., I need you in somebody’s classroom at least acting like you’re trying to learn something,” Li’l Monk told him.
Droopy sucked his teeth. “Come on, Li’l Monk. I ain’t—”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” Li’l Monk cut him off. “You wanna get money, it’s my way or no way. You don’t like it? Go fuck with them niggas from St. Nick projects and let them work you like a dog for pennies.”
“A’ight, you got that,” Droopy reluctantly conceded.
“Glad we see eye to eye. Now take whatever drugs you got left on you and pass them off to one of the youngsters,” Li’l Monk ordered.
Droopy patted his balls, where he had the drugs stashed. “I’m all out. The two I gave that base head were all I had left.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Li’l Monk snapped.
“Damn, my fault. What is it with you and that old dude? Where you know him from?” Droopy asked. He couldn’t understand why Li’l Monk was so defensive over the drug addict.
“I know him from his nut sack. He’s my father,” Li’l Monk revealed.
The revelation shocked Droopy. “That was Monk? As in Big Monk?” His mouth suddenly became very dry.
“Let that be a lesson to you, Droopy. Watch your mouth when speaking to your elders because you never know who it is you’re disrespecting and what the repercussions could be.”
“You right, Li’l Monk.” He didn’t know Monk personally, but had heard enough stories about the old head to know that the confrontation between them could’ve gone very, very bad.
When Li’l Monk and Droopy got back to the front of the building, Sophie was clearly irritated. “Damn, I thought you were gonna leave me standing over here forever while you were playing with your little friends,” Sophie said with an attitude.
“I wasn’t playing. I was preventing a homicide.” Li’l Monk cut his eyes at Droopy.
“Droopy, you stay in some shit,” Tasha said. She had known Droopy since he was a baby and for as long as she could remember he was always involved in some type of mischief.
“So, what y’all about to do?” Li’l Monk changed the subject.
“I don’t know. Why, are you trying to get rid of me?” Sophie asked.
“Nah, baby. It ain’t like that. I just don’t want you on the block like that. It’s hot out here,” Li’l Monk told her.
“Well, me and Tasha was gonna get some weed from up the block and then probably go back to my house.”
“You ain’t gotta go in that death trap to get no smoke, ma. I got some weed upstairs. You and Tasha go to the store and get some White Owls and we can blaze upstairs,” Li’l Monk suggested.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Tasha replied for Sophie. “Come on, Soph.” She pulled her friend down the block toward the corner bodega.
“Damn,” Droopy said watching Sophie and Tasha walk away. “You one lucky-ass nigga, Li’l Monk.”
“I be knowing.” Li’l Monk cracked a half smile. His attention was drawn from his girlfriend’s figure when a livery cab pulled to a stop at the curb a few feet away. Instinctively Li’l Monk positioned himself so that he could spin off and retrieve his pistol, which was inside the mailbox, if necessary. When he saw a familiar face getting out of the back, he relaxed a bit. The tension still lingered, but not because he felt threatened; because he didn’t know how to feel about the passenger.
Li’l Monk quietly observed Charlie as he pushed the back door open and looked up and down the block cautiously before daring to step out. He fished in his pocket and came up with some crumbled bills, which he smoothed as best he could and handed them to the taxi driver. There was a brief exchange about the fare versus what the driver was given, which resulted in Charlie flipping him the middle finger and walking off. Same old Charlie, Li’l Monk thought, shaking his head.
Charlie was a frail, light-skinned kid with big lips and a slick mouth. He and Li’l Monk had been best friends since they were little, and Li’l Monk was smashing kids in the sandbox on behalf of Charlie. Charlie was what you would call a trouble tree, which meant trouble seemed to follow him.
Over the last few months, Li’l Monk and Charlie’s relationship had begun deteriorating over the same thing many friendships crumble over: money. Li’l Monk was on the come up and Charlie was still trying to find his way from ground zero and it bothered him. Li’l Monk had tried to spread love as best he could, but Charlie always found a reason to be bitter, or something to complain about.
His biggest issue seemed to be Li’l Monk’s relationship with Omega. For reasons that Li’l Monk still didn’t understand, Charlie and Omega were like oil and water. Charlie hated Omega because he felt like he had stolen his spot as Li’l Monk’s best friend and Omega claimed he didn’t rock with Charlie because he was a leech. When Li’l Monk got to the point where there was nothing else he could do to defuse the tension between the two of them he just stepped back and let the chips fall where they would.
“What’s good, family?” Charlie greeted Li’l Monk with dap and a hug.
“Slow motion,” Li’l Monk told him.
Charlie looked at Droopy. “What it do, shorty?”
“Whatever Li’l Monk needs it to do,” Droopy capped back. He never cared for Charlie. Many thought that
it was just because Charlie had been among the older kids in the neighborhood who always gave Droopy a hard time, but it went deeper than that. Several years prior, when Droopy was a child still living with his mother he’d had the misfortune of wandering into her bedroom in the middle of the night while she was turning a trick in exchange for drugs. That trick just happened to be Charlie. It had happened so long ago that Droopy doubted Charlie even remembered the incident or that he was the kid who had come into the room, but it was still fresh in Droopy’s mind. No matter how hard he tried, he was never able to bury the vision of Charlie’s yellow ass thrusting in and out of his mother.
“Was that Sophie and Tasha I saw going into the store?” Charlie asked, ignoring the piercing glare Droopy was giving him.
“Yeah, they went to get some cigars so we can burn it down right quick,” Li’l Monk told him.
“Looks like I came right on time.” Charlie rubbed his hands together greedily. “Yo, what’s up with Tasha? You think she’ll let me fuck?”
Li’l Monk shrugged. “Best I can tell you is to try your hand and see what happens, but you know that girl’s nose is wide open for Omega.”
Charlie’s face darkened. “Damn, it’s not bad enough a nonlocal nigga is getting all the local money, but he getting all the local pussy, too?”
“C’mon with that shit, Charlie. You know Omega is fam, so don’t start that dirty talk because I ain’t really trying to hear it,” Li’l Monk told him. He remained neutral in Charlie and Omega’s feud, but he never let one talk greasy about the other.
“I feel you.” Charlie nodded. “Did you have a chance to give any thought to what I was building with you about?”
When Li’l Monk and Omega started doing their thing heavy in the hood, Charlie ventured out on his own. Li’l Monk never really got into who he was hustling with or where they were doing it, because it wasn’t his business, so long as his friend wasn’t in the streets destitute, he was cool. They didn’t see much of each other on their respective climbs up the criminal ladder, outside of the occasional passing in the hood because Charlie lived on the strip where Li’l Monk and Omega sold drugs. Recently, Charlie had started coming back around and trying to get next to Li’l Monk. Whatever money well he had been tapping was drying up and he was acting like he suddenly remembered where his bread was buttered. Regardless of what Li’l Monk and Charlie had gone through, they still had eighteen years of history and Li’l Monk couldn’t turn him away. Li’l Monk wasn’t yet comfortable to give him a seat at the table, for he had considered feeding Charlie with a long-handled spoon.
Li’l Monk looked from Droopy to Charlie and gave him a look that said “you should know better.” “We’ll talk,” he said dryly.
Charlie took the hint and wisely changed the subject. “Say, did you see the Yankee game the other day?”
While the three men sat around talking sports, a cat everybody knew as Neighborhood came ambling down the block. Despite the fair weather he was wearing his signature army jacket and a heavy Coogi sweater that had seen better days. It was so tattered that you could see through the gaps of patchwork colorful fabric, straight to the white tank top beneath it. Neighborhood broke his stride briefly to tip his lint-riddled wool skully to an old woman and her child who were passing him, before continuing on his merry way. In his day, Neighborhood had been about his paper. The old timer was responsible for giving some of the most celebrated criminals in Harlem their very first packages, including Face and Big Monk. Neighborhood could’ve been great, but his love for good times and better drugs poisoned his destiny. When it was all said and done Neighborhood was left with nothing but fond memories and a serious drug habit.
When Neighborhood saw Li’l Monk, he parted his thick, crusty lips into a wide slave grin showing off what was left of his rotting teeth. “If it ain’t my main man.” He walked up on Li’l Monk and extended a hand that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a few days.
“Chilling.” Li’l Monk took the dirty hand without flinching. When Neighborhood leaned in to embrace him, Li’l Monk’s nose was assaulted with the smell of funk and cigarettes, but he still gave Neighborhood the respect of a full hug. “How you be, old timer?”
Neighborhood shrugged. “Been better, been worse, but I’m still here to complain about it.” He looked to Droopy. “What ya know no good, Droopy? You got my medicine for the day?”
Droopy patted his pockets. “I’m dry. Li’l Monk took me off the work.”
Neighborhood gave Li’l Monk a look. “You nursing pups now?”
“Nah, it ain’t like that. I’m just trying to stretch his life expectancy,” Li’l Monk told him.
Neighborhood nodded in approval. “Somebody has gotta teach the little ones that there’s more to living than dying.” He turned to Charlie. “’Sup, junior? How ya mama and them doing?” he asked slyly.
Charlie’s face suddenly became very serious. “My nigga, I keep telling you about ya funny shit. Stop playing with me like that, or I’m gonna have to lay hands on you.” His tone was sharp. Charlie couldn’t stand Neighborhood and had never made a secret of it. Rumor had it that back in the days, Neighborhood had been sleeping with Charlie’s mother and there was some speculation about his paternity.
Li’l Monk stood there, watching the exchange between Charlie and Neighborhood, trying his best not to bust out laughing. There exchanges were always epically funny. His eyes drifted up the block, toward the bodega Sophie had gone to for cigars and his smile suddenly melted away. Without saying a word to anyone, Li’l Monk started in the direction of the store.
“Grab me a Pepsi while you’re back there,” Sophie called from the front of the store. Tasha was in the back rummaging through the freezers while Sophie was at the register.
“Hey, Sophie. Long time no see,” the older Hispanic man behind the counter greeted her. “Where you been?”
“School has been kicking my ass, so I haven’t really had time for much of anything else, Juan,” Sophie told him.
“You’re in school? That’s great! You always were a smart girl, Sophie, and I’m glad to see you’re out here doing something for yourself. More young women need to think like you.” He cast his eyes at Tasha, who had just come from the back, when he made the statement.
“Thanks, Juan. I can’t wait for it to come, I gotta get out here and get it,” Sophie said proudly.
“Nothing sexier than an educated woman,” someone behind Sophie said.
She turned around and found herself confronted by a handsome light-skinned man, who rocked a curly fade. Two gold chains dangled from around his neck and he was wearing a gaudy pinky ring. His whole aura screamed “dope boy.” Sophie had seen him around before, but didn’t know his name nor did she care to learn it. She smiled politely, before paying for her and Tasha’s items and leaving the store. She was trying to ditch the young man, but he was persistent and followed her out.
“Damn, it’s like that?” He was hot on Sophie’s heels. The two gold chains around his neck clanked together as he walked.
“I got a man,” Sophie said over her shoulder, without bothering to turn around.
“That’s okay with me, because I got a girl. I ain’t looking for no commitment, just to be friends,” he said slyly.
From a half block away she could feel Li’l Monk’s piercing gaze. She didn’t have to look up to know that he was staring at her. Sophie knew exactly how things would play out if she didn’t get rid of the young man. She stopped and gave him a serious look. “I think it’s best that we end this conversation.”
“That’s fucked up, ma. I’m trying to make you a contender and you out here acting like a chicken dinner.” He reached for her hand, but Sophie jerked away. “Relax, baby. I was just trying to shake your hand and introduce myself properly. I wasn’t gonna bite you, unless, of course, you asked me to.” He smiled.
“Look, dude, I ain’t trying to be a bitch about it, but ain’t nothing popping. I got a man who I love, so with all due res
pect I’m not interested in nothing you talking about.” Sophie’s tone was sharper than she’d meant it to be, but she was nervous.
The young man shook his head. “See, you Harlem broads kill me. Y’all run around screaming how you want a nigga to approach you with respect, but when one does you get to acting all stuck-up and shit!”
From the change in his demeanor he was obviously offended. The look on his face thought Sophie was being rude, but she was actually trying to save him from what was surely coming.
“Oh shit.” Tasha’s eyes landed on something just behind Sophie.
It was too late.
CHAPTER 9
The visit with Father Michael had left Persia with some food for thought. Twice already that day she had learned that her family secrets were not so secret and school wasn’t even over yet. It was no big surprise that Mr. Thompson had known Face, as his family had been living in the neighborhood already when they first moved there. All of the neighbors had speculated on what Persia’s father did for a living, but one person outside of Persia’s family knew the truth: Marty’s dad, Mr. Rizzo.
Since Persia, Sarah, and Marty were best friends they spent a lot of time together and this led to their fathers developing relationships. Sarah’s dad, Mr. Thompson, had always been a bit of an odd nut, so Face kept it casual with him. They would attend barbecues at the Thompsons’ or invite them over to their house, but neighborly affection was as far as it went with them. Mr. Rizzo was a different story. From the time they’d met, the two men became as thick as thieves.
Marty’s dad was an older Italian man, who had become a father late in life, but only looked half his true age. Whenever you saw Mr. Rizzo he was always immaculately dressed and never had a hair out of place. He prided himself on being well groomed at all times, and it was a trait that rubbed off on his wife and daughter. Marty’s mother looked and dressed like a fashion model. She was a socialite who spent more time partying than she did at home, which would often leave Marty to spend nights or days with Persia’s family. The Rizzos owned a modest car service, but they lived in one of the biggest houses in the neighborhood. Like Persia’s father, not all of Mr. Rizzo’s income was legitimate. That’s probably why the two of them connected.
