by K'wan
“Boogie is off the chain,” Meeka said after he’d gone.
“Tell me about it,” Persia added. “I seen him before with those kids from the Polo Grounds. I hear they’re out here robbing and killing everything moving. Meeka, I didn’t know you knew them dudes like that.”
“Meeka is practically a member of their gang,” Ty volunteered, which got her a sharp look from Meeka.
“It ain’t that serious, Persia. Boogie and Christian just let me get a little money with them when I’m strapped for cash. No big deal.” Meeka downplayed it. In truth she was getting in deeper than she let on with Boogie’s crew of hitters. When Meeka was down and out Christian and Boogie had been the only ones who helped her stay above the poverty line by allowing her to earn her keep with their team. “But enough about Boogie and them.” She changed the subject. “What’s up with you and this Vaughn cat? I wasn’t gonna ask you about it, but since Boogie already brought it up, spill.”
“Oh my goodness.” Persia sighed. “Vaughn and I are just getting to know each other and people are acting like we’re engaged! Why is everybody making such a big deal out of some pictures a few thirsty-ass tabloids posted? They’re not even credible sources.”
“Ah, I saw the picture of you two in the Daily News. I think they’re pretty credible,” Meeka said. “Look, Persia, no need to be modest with us. We ain’t no haters. After all you’ve been through you deserve a come up more than anybody. I’m just happy to see you back on top of your game. You can give us all the dirty details later, but we should probably get inside. Looks like they’re about to start.”
Persia, Meeka, and Ty were able to find three empty seats a few rows back from the front of the funeral home, not far from where Karen’s family was sitting. Persia thought about approaching Karen’s mother to offer her condolences, but she didn’t look like she was in the shape to receive them. She was in bad shape, wailing uncontrollably and crying rivers of tears. A time or two Charlie and his uncle had to restrain her from rushing the casket. Persia could only imagine the pain a mother experienced when she had to bury her child. Seeing Karen’s mom all broken up like that made Persia think of her mother and the grief she had put her through over the past year.
For as long as Persia could remember her mother had always been her rock. When Persia’s father, Face, went to prison it was Michelle who stepped up. Long before she met and married Persia’s stepfather, Richard, it had been Michelle who held the family down. Even when Persia had run off on a crack bender with Chucky and gave her mother her ass to kiss, Michelle refused to give up on her. Persia couldn’t see it when she was caught up, but being clean gave her a whole new perspective and an even greater respect for her mother.
They came to the point during the service where the pastor had invited the friends and family to say their final farewells to Karen. Persia stood to fall in step with Ty and Meeka as they filed out to the aisle. One by one, friends and family said their good-byes. Meeka handled it like a G, but Ty went to pieces over the casket. She fell on the floor and began crying uncontrollably. Two funeral home employees pulled her to her feet and helped her to a chair, where Meeka tried with little success to console her. It was Persia’s turn to say her good-byes.
Persia had been purposely avoiding looking at the casket, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. The moment she looked down at Karen her eyes welled with tears. She’d heard the killer did a number on Karen but seeing her up close told the tale of how much she must’ve suffered before she died. Karen’s face was swollen, either from the beating or post-death bloating. Persia wasn’t sure which. They’d caked her face with makeup, but some of the bruising was too deep to do more than tone down. On her head sat a cheap wig that nobody had even taken the time to style. The young woman in that box was not the girl Persia had grown up doing dirt with. It couldn’t be.
Persia felt ill. Her stomach lurched and she knew she was going to have an embarrassing episode if she didn’t get out of the funeral home. She doubled back the way she came, shoving people out of her way as she tried desperately to make it to the exit before she threw up. She was in such a rush that she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and bumped into what felt like a brick wall made of flesh and bone. She cast her eyes up to offer an apology and found herself at a loss for words.
CHAPTER 6
“Hey,” Li’l Monk said once he was finally able to find his voice.
“Hi,” Persia offered back.
“Been awhile, huh?”
“Yeah, quite awhile. I wasn’t in the best shape the last time we bumped into each other.” She thought back to her time running with Chucky and how she must’ve looked to Li’l Monk and everybody else who had known her.
“You look like you bounced back nicely.” Li’l Monk let his eyes roam over her.
Persia blushed. “Taking it one day at a time trying to get my life back in order.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I’ll bet the whole hood is talking about me,” Persia said, embarrassed.
“People are always gonna talk. It’s when they stop talking that you should start worrying, Princess P,” Li’l Monk said reassuringly.
For the first time that whole day Persia laughed. “I haven’t heard you call me that in long time.”
“That means you need to come around more often.”
“I wish. My life has been extremely hectic between school and everything else,” Persia told him.
“I can only imagine. I was glad when I heard you went back to school. You always were smarter than most,” Li’l Monk said.
“If I were that smart then I wouldn’t have gotten myself into all that bullshit.” Persia huffed.
“Ain’t no shame in making mistakes, Persia, but there’s plenty of shame in not learning from them,” Li’l Monk said in a serious tone.
“Jesus, you sound like my stepfather.” Persia rolled her eyes.
“How is old stiff-ass Rich? He still walking around with that broomstick up his ass?” Li’l Monk joked.
“You are terrible. Richard isn’t that bad.”
“This coming from the same chick who used to give him shit every chance she got?” Li’l Monk raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I probably gave Richard more hell than he deserved, but sometimes people can change your opinions of them. Richard changed mine of him during my recovery. Next to my mother nobody went harder for me than him. There were a few times when I wanted to quit, but Richard wouldn’t let me. He pushed me to do better, to want better.”
“Well I’m glad that you guys are getting along now. I wish I could say the same about my dad,” Li’l Monk said, thinking of his last remaining parent and namesake.
“Y’all still at it?” Persia asked. She wasn’t really surprised. The father and son had been butting heads since Persia and Li’l Monk were kids and things got worse once Big Monk got strung out on drugs.
“For as long as he’s out here on that bullshit we’re always gonna be at it,” Li’l Monk said.
Persia took his hand in hers. “Li’l Monk, I know Monk hasn’t been the best dad, but try to be patient with him. Monk is an addict and when you’re caught up with drugs they can make you lose focus of who you are. Give him time and he’ll come around.”
“If you say so, Persia.”
“I know so. Take it from somebody who was once a slave to addiction.”
Their moment was broken up when just behind them one of the mourners collapsed in the aisle, crying and reminding Persia and Li’l Monk of why they were there.
“Sorry about what happened to Karen,” Li’l Monk offered.
“Yeah, a real tragedy.” Persia reflexively cast a glance back at the casket. “You know, even though Karen and me were going through a rough patch it still fucked me up when I heard she died. I’ll always feel like there was so much that went unsaid between us.”
“My mom used to always say if you give people flowers while they’re living you don’t ha
ve to weep for them when they pass.” Li’l Monk recalled the quote his mother would always recite when someone passed.
“That’s some very good advice,” Persia agreed. Remembering she still had to meet Vaughn she looked at her watch and checked the time. “I gotta make moves, but it was good seeing you.”
“Good seeing you too, Persia. We need to link up one of these days,” Li’l Monk suggested.
Persia would’ve liked to have taken Li’l Monk up on his offer, but in light of Chucky popping back up in her life she wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. “We’ll see.” She mustered a weak smile.
Li’l Monk felt slighted, but didn’t show it. “I guess I’ll catch you when I catch you then, Princess P.”
“See you around, Li’l Monk.” Persia wrapped her arms around his thick neck and hugged him.
Li’l Monk stood there watching Persia as she walked up the aisle and disappeared through the funeral home doors. Long after she had gone his heart was still aflutter. Li’l Monk had loved Persia ever since they were kids, but the feeling was one sided. Despite his best efforts to impress her she still barely noticed him. Persia looked at Li’l Monk more like a big brother than a potential lover and he was reminded of it every time she brushed him off.
Li’l Monk had considered confessing to her that it had been he who spared her life the night of the massacre at the crack house in Mount Vernon. Ramses had ordered them to kill everyone in the house, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Persia. Even strung out and looking like death warmed over she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and his heart wouldn’t let him hurt her. When Persia fell from the bathroom window trying to escape the death sentence passed on the house, Li’l Monk feared he’d lost her for good. He knelt in the snow, weeping as he cradled Persia’s withered frame in his arms. Li’l Monk had never been very big on religion but that night he prayed to God to spare Persia, and to his surprise God answered him and Persia stirred. Li’l Monk abandoned the mission and rushed Persia to the nearest hospital. Huck called him a fool for risking his neck over a crackhead, but he didn’t understand. To Li’l Monk Persia was more than just a smoker; she was the center of his universe.
Had Li’l Monk revealed all this to Persia then just maybe she would’ve been a bit more receptive to his feelings, but he didn’t want her to love him out of obligation; he wanted her to love him because she felt it in her heart.
When Li’l Monk was done daydreaming about something he would never have he turned his mind back to the business at hand: Charlie. He needed answers that only his friend could provide. He looked down to where Charlie had been sitting with his family, but he was no longer there. His mother and uncles were but there was no sign of Charlie. Though Li’l Monk didn’t see Charlie he saw Sophie, glaring at him with her nostrils flared.
“What was that all about?” Sophie asked as she and Li’l Monk walked toward the exit. They’d wanted to leave before the procession started making their way out with the casket.
“What was what about?” He faked ignorance.
Sophie stopped and gave him a look. “You know what I’m talking about. I saw you and the little Miss Thang making goo-goo eyes at each other.”
Li’l Monk sucked his teeth. “Wasn’t nobody making eyes, Sophie. Me and Persia just haven’t seen each other in a while so we were catching up.”
Sophie snorted. “Looked like more than that to me. You all smirking in her face and shit.” She mimicked the love-struck look he’d been wearing when he was talking to Persia.
“Sophie, how come you get your panties in a bunch over every broad I speak to in the streets?” Li’l Monk asked.
“Not every broad, Li’l Monk. Only the ones you were once in love with,” Sophie shot back.
“That was a childhood crush.” Li’l Monk downplayed it.
Sophie cupped his face in her hands and looked him directly in the eyes. “We’ve known each other for a long time. We were friends long before we became lovers, so don’t put me in a position to think poorly of you by trying to play on my intelligence. Now I know how you feel about Persia and though I might not like it I’ve learned to accept it, but don’t you ever forget that what she saw as trash has always been my treasure. You understand?”
Li’l Monk nodded.
“Good, because I’d hate to have to beat the breaks off that bitch for fucking with what’s mine.” Sophie gave him a peck on the lips and strode toward the exit.
Li’l Monk followed his lady outside and took a deep breath. The fresh air felt good after spending so much time breathing the smells of death and sadness that clung to the funeral home. The sidewalk was now crowded with mourners who had filed out, while cars idled double parked at the curb waiting to follow the procession to the cemetery. Li’l Monk saw Omega leaning against a familiar black SUV. Huck sat behind the wheel, smoking a cigarette, while Omega spoke to Ramses through the open back window. Li’l Monk nodded in greeting. Huck returned the gesture, but Ramses did not, which Li’l Monk found odd. He was about to approach the vehicle when Ramses gave Huck the signal to pull off.
“What the fuck is his problem?” Li’l Monk approached Omega. He watched as Ramses’s truck hit the corner and vanished.
“Job-related stress. Don’t take it personal.” Omega downplayed it.
“So what brought him out here? I thought Ramses don’t fuck with funerals,” Li’l Monk said.
“He don’t, but he had to bring me a message that couldn’t be delivered over the phone,” Omega told him.
“What’s good?” Li’l Monk asked.
“Something light. A nigga who we do business with is out of bounds and Ramses needs him put back in bounds.”
“Well you know I’m with you if there’s dirt to be done,” Li’l Monk said, ready to ride out with his partner.
“Not this time. Ramses wants me to put somebody else on it,” Omega confessed.
This took Li’l Monk by surprise. “What’s the matter, my gun don’t go off loud enough for him anymore?”
“Nah, it ain’t that. We’re upper management now, so he don’t want us getting dirty unless we got to,” Omega lied. In truth Ramses never gave Omega an explanation as to why he didn’t want Li’l Monk involved. He just specified that Li’l Monk was to have no part in the job. Of course Omega didn’t want to tell his friend that and further bruise his ego. He was aware that Ramses had been feeding Li’l Monk with a long-handled spoon since the Mr. D situation. Though Li’l Monk never came out and said it, Omega knew him well enough to know that he felt slighted by it.
“If you say so, O,” Li’l Monk said, not really believing the excuse Omega offered. “I’ll catch you on the block.” He gave Omega dap and went to catch up with Sophie.
Li’l Monk walked away with mixed emotions about his exchange with Omega. Something was obviously going on. Li’l Monk didn’t like to be kept in the dark and it especially bothered him coming from someone who he trusted with his life night in and night out. It was very possible that Omega was as clueless as he acted, but it was also possible that Ramses had ordered him to play his hand close to his chest. Either way Li’l Monk wasn’t feeling it. He spared a glance over his shoulder and caught King Tut watching him and smirking. If Ramses’s abrupt departure and Omega being cryptic wasn’t enough to tell Li’l Monk that something was wrong, the look Tut was giving him confirmed it.
PART II
ULTERIOR MOTIVES
CHAPTER 7
After the funeral Li’l Monk and Sophie went back to her place where they changed out of their funeral clothes and put some weed in the air. It had been a trying day for both of them and they needed to mellow out.
After smoking a blunt they jumped in a taxi and went to BBQ’s on Seventy-second Street to grab a bite. The whole time they ate Li’l Monk’s mind seemed to be elsewhere. Sophie inquired as to what was troubling him. He shrugged it off as if he was okay, but he wasn’t. He was thinking about the strange treatment he had received from Ramses. Lately Ra
mses was becoming increasingly distant. Li’l Monk knew he was under an enormous amount of pressure over the escalating beef with the Clarks and the deteriorating relationships with several of their allied crews, but Li’l Monk felt like there was something else. His dad had always taught him to trust his gut and his gut told him that something was brewing.
Sophie wanted to catch a movie afterward, but Li’l Monk had to get back on the clock. He had been away from the block all day and felt disconnected. He needed to plug back into the streets and see what was going on in the neighborhood.
The first person he saw when he got out of the taxi on the corner of 138th and Seventh Avenue was Droopy. They called him Droopy because his sagging jowls and lazy eyes made him look like the cartoon dog Droopy. Droopy was a thirteen-year-old juvenile delinquent who had been running the streets since the time he could walk. Droopy was a troublesome kid who was likely to be murdered or end up in prison if someone didn’t bring some direction into his life. Li’l Monk had become his unofficial mentor and the only one who gave enough of a shit to try to keep him out of trouble. Droopy reminded Li’l Monk a lot of himself at that age, alone and trying to navigate the world without getting killed or starving to death. Li’l Monk wasn’t much in the way of a role model, but he did what he could to keep the young boy fed and alive.
As usual Droopy was dressed in jeans that were at least two sizes too big and a New York Giants jersey that swallowed his frame. A black du-rag was tied so tight around his head that it pulled his eyes back making him look Chinese. He was snacking on a bag of BBQ potato chips, with a pineapple Tropical Fantasy soda sticking out of his back pocket.
Li’l Monk watched as a fiend approached Droopy and said something to him before slipping Droopy what looked like some crumpled bills. Droopy gave a cautious look around before digging in the bag of chips and handing the fiend something, before snatching the money and shooing him along. If Li’l Monk couldn’t depend on anyone else to be out chasing money twenty-four/seven, he could depend on Droopy. Ever since Li’l Monk put him down with the team all Droopy did was chase paper.
