The Fix 3

by K'wan

  “You only saying that because you got a girl and Sophie got that ass trained,” Droopy teased him.

  “Li’l nigga, can’t nothing or nobody tame this wild animal.” Li’l Monk pounded his chest. “I treat Sophie with respect because she’s my lady and deserves to be respected, but even before her I was always mindful of how I treated broads. My mother taught me from young that a woman you choose to lie with should be a reflection of you. The same respect you command for yourself should be given to your woman.”

  “I hear you talking, Li’l Monk. When I find somebody I choose to be with I’ll take heed, but right now I’m just trying to fuck, ya heard?”

  Li’l Monk shook his head sadly at Droopy’s ignorance. He sometimes forgot how young he was until he opened his mouth and said something dumb. “Walk with me to the Spanish restaurant. I’m starving.”

  Li’l Monk and Droopy walked the couple of blocks to the restaurant, talking about the day’s events. It seemed like every few feet someone was stopping Li’l Monk to shake his hand, or shout him out. The neighborhood respected Omega, but they loved Li’l Monk. He was no doubt a man of the people and it showed wherever he went.

  A car horn beeped twice and Li’l Monk turned in time to see Ramses’s SUV riding past. His eyes locked with Ramses, who was sitting in the back seat. Li’l Monk expected Ramses to blank him again, but this time he at least acknowledged him with a nod, to which Li’l Monk nodded back. For that brief second when their eyes locked Li’l Monk felt something pass between them. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but it was definitely something. Li’l Monk was tired of playing guessing games and decided he would confront Ramses the next time the opportunity presented itself.

  Of course the Spanish restaurant was crowded when they arrived. The line stretched from the counter and out the door. When the old Dominican woman who served the food spotted Li’l Monk, she quickly waved him forward. Li’l Monk was one of their regular customers. She liked him because he was always respectful and tipped well. She didn’t need to ask what he wanted because he got the same thing every time he came in: roast pork, red beans, and yellow rice. The favoritism didn’t set well with the people who had been waiting in line, but only one of them was foolish enough to say something.

  “Yo, what the fuck? I been standing in line for like ten minutes and you gonna serve this nigga first?” a man barked. He was short and stocky with hard eyes.

  “Calm down, I’ll get to you in one minute,” the old Dominican woman told him, while continuing to make Li’l Monk’s plate.

  “Fuck that, my money is just as green as his. This muthafucka ain’t the president!” the stocky man shouted.

  “I’ll be out of your way in a second, my man. Just be cool,” Li’l Monk said coolly. He thanked the woman and took his bag of food off the counter, leaving her a generous tip.

  “He needs to before we have a misunderstanding,” Droopy added.

  The stocky man looked down at Droopy. “Who the fuck is you supposed to be, his bodyguard?”

  “No, I’m the nigga who’ll blow your fucking face off!” Droopy pulled the Beretta and pointed it at the stocky man. The old Dominican woman screamed behind the counter and people who had been in line waiting for their food scattered out of the way, as Droopy tried to draw a bead on his target. The stocky man went scrambling out the door screaming like a girl.

  “Give me that.” Li’l Monk snatched the gun from Droopy and grabbed him by the scruff of his hockey jersey. “Sorry about that, mami,” he apologized to the old Dominican woman, and shoved Droopy toward the front door. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” he shouted at Droopy once they were outside.

  “Man, he was disrespecting you so I stepped to that pussy!” Droopy declared.

  “How, by getting mad that I skipped him in the line? Droopy, you drew an illegal gun on a man in an establishment that we visit just about every day. Being young and naïve is one thing, but the shit you did was plain fucking stupid.”

  “I’m sorry, Li’l Monk. I was just trying to show you that I’m with you and will pop that thang without hesitation!” Droopy said emotionally. He was trying to be tough, but his feelings were clearly hurt.

  Li’l Monk sighed, realizing that Droopy was too naïve to see the wrong in what he’d done. “Droopy.” He placed his hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “One of the things I love about you is your loyalty to me and this thing of ours. You’re big on heart, but still have a lot of growing and learning to do. Take the rest of the night off.”

  “C’mon, I know I fucked up but don’t take me off the money,” Droopy pleaded.

  “You can get back on the money tomorrow, but for the night you need to relax and reflect. Here.” Li’l Monk dug in his pocket and pulled out his money. He peeled off some bills and handed them to Droopy. “Go catch a movie or whatever the fuck it is that teenagers do these days. Just get off the block for a while.”

  Droopy sadly accepted the money. “You know this ain’t right. Can I at least have my gun back?”

  “Bye, Droopy.” Li’l Monk folded his arms and stared him down.

  “This is some bullshit,” Droopy mumbled and slunk away.

  Li’l Monk ambled down the block, eating his food and lost in his thoughts. In his pocket he felt his cell phone vibrating. Careful not to get any grease on it, Li’l Monk eased the phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. It was Sophie. He had been ducking her calls all day and knew if he continued to do so she’d likely show up on the block. “What’s up, baby?” he answered the phone.

  “Damn, I was beginning to think your phone was broken since I been calling you all day long,” Sophie said.

  “Oh, my bad. I been in the house ’sleep all day,” Li’l Monk lied.

  “Really? Because when I bumped into your dad this morning he said he hadn’t seen you all night,” Sophie shot back.

  “Man, you know half the time that dude be so high he don’t know if he’s coming or going. Anyhow, what’s good with you?” Li’l Monk changed the subject.

  “Worrying about your ass. I heard you and Omega got into a shootout at the strip club, so when I didn’t hear from you I started getting worried.”

  Li’l Monk shook his head at how the story had been twisted yet again. “It wasn’t a shootout, just a little scuffle, and I’m fine.”

  “What were you doing at a strip club anyhow?”

  “I was having some drinks with my partner. What, I’m not allowed to go to strip clubs?” Li’l Monk asked defensively.

  “Li’l Monk, you’re my man, not my kid. You’re free to go wherever you like as long as you carry yourself accordingly. I only asked because I know you don’t care for strip clubs so I found it odd that you went, that’s all. You’re acting all suspicious and shit. What the hell is your problem?”

  “Nothing, just a lot of bullshit happening on the block.” Li’l Monk quickly recovered.

  “Then maybe you need to come in out of the cold for a while. Why don’t you come over and see me. I’ll make us some dinner and we can watch a movie,” Sophie suggested. There was a pause. “You still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here, babe. I was reading something. Sure, I’ll swing by there tonight,” Li’l Monk told her. His tone was flat not because he didn’t want to see her, but because he was more preoccupied with putting together a good alibi to explain his whereabouts from the night before.

  “Don’t sound so enthused about it,” she said sarcastically.

  “I’m sorry, ma. My mind is just elsewhere lately,” Li’l Monk admitted. “Maybe spending a few hours in your arms are what I need to take my mind off this bullshit.”

  “That’s the Li’l Monk I know and love.”

  “You need me to bring anything?” he asked.

  “No, I got some Absolut in the freezer and the weed is already on deck. Just bring some cigars with you.”

  “Got you. See you in a little bit.” Li’l Monk got ready to end the call, but her voice stopped h
im.

  “I love you.”

  Li’l Monk smiled. “I love you too.” He placed the phone in his pocket and started making his way to the store. Hearing Sophie’s voice was just what Li’l Monk needed to bring his focus back and remember the things that were really important to life. The thought of hurting Sophie hurt him more than the thought of losing her. She was a good girl and deserved a man who was going to do right. He was human and had made a mistake, but it was one he knew he would never make again. What happened between him and Tiffany would be a secret he took to his grave.

  Li’l Monk proceeded to run up in the bodega, and grabbed some cigars and a pack of Skittles because he knew Sophie loved them when she was high. As an afterthought he grabbed two Guinness stouts. He planned on loving Sophie down that night and wanted a little extra kick. As he was coming out of the bodega he bumped into Neighborhood.

  “Sup wit’ you?” Li’l Monk greeted Neighborhood while using his teeth to pop the cap from one of the Guinness bottles.

  “Out here trying to get on my feet, if you know what I mean?” Neighborhood scratched his face.

  “What you telling me for? You know I don’t hand to hand no more; go see one of them niggas around the corner,” Li’l Monk told him.

  “I would but I’m in a position of financial disposition, feel me?” Neighborhood quipped. “Think you could spare few coins to ease my pain?”

  Li’l Monk frowned, digging in his pocket. “Neighborhood, I don’t see how you keep that oil burner of yours lit with no source of income. I told you if you need some paper in your pockets I’ll let you knock off a few packages.” He handed him a few dollars.

  “No, thank you! Leaving a crackhead to watch over cocaine is like leaving a rapist in a room full of drugged women and then wondering why half of them ended up fucked. I’d rather beg and hustle for my get-high than run the risk of having a gorilla like you on my back, or worse that damn Droopy. I just seen him and a bunch of them little dusty project kids trying to tie firecrackers to the tails of stray cats.” He shook his head sadly.

  “I told that knucklehead to get off the block for a while,” Li’l Monk grumbled. He wasn’t happy about being disobeyed.

  “Now you should know better than that.” Neighborhood snickered. “A young boy like that, all he knows is the hood. Where’s he gonna go to get off the block?”

  “I never thought about it like that,” Li’l Monk said honestly.

  “That’s what ya got me for.” Neighborhood winked. Suddenly his face got very serious and his eyes landed on something just behind Li’l Monk. “I’m about to take a walk and I think it’d be a good idea if you did too.”

  Li’l Monk turned around and saw a blood red tricked-out Jeep sitting on large chrome rims pulling to a stop at the curb. Three men got out, all looking like they meant business. One was an older dude, and another was younger and wore his hair in cornrows. From their body language Li’l Monk knew they were soldiers. Leading the pack was a light-skinned dude who wore his hair in long, loose braids fitted with red rubber bands at the ends. From the description Li’l Monk had gotten from the streets, it had to be the kid they called Swann.

  “Fool-ass boy, what you still standing there for? Let’s scat while we can!” Neighborhood urged.

  “A nigga will never chase me off my own block.” Li’l Monk put his beers down and squared up. He had his Desert Eagle and Droopy’s Beretta so he was feeling froggy.

  “Suit yourself.” Neighborhood walked off.

  “You Li’l Monk?” one of the men with Swann asked. He was an older dude, wearing jeans and a blazer.

  “Since the day I was born,” Li’l Monk replied. His hands were folded behind his back, one on each pistol.

  Swann stepped forward and sized Li’l Monk up. “We didn’t come for all that, so why don’t you take it easy. They call me Swann.” He extended his hand.

  Li’l Monk looked down at his hand, but didn’t shake it. “I know who you are, and you obviously know who I am, so this leaves me to wonder what you doing on the wrong side of the tracks?”

  “I was hoping we could have a conversation without all the theatrics,” Swann told him.

  Li’l Monk shrugged. “So talk.”

  Swann looked over his shoulder at the older man with him, who just shook his head. They knew Li’l Monk was testing them. There was a brief and silent exchange among the trio before Swann turned his attention back to Li’l Monk. “A’ight, fuck it. I’m hoping we can come to some type of understanding over recent events.”

  “Your boys was trying to get at my partner so we did what we had to do,” Li’l Monk said as if it was that simple.

  A confused expression crossed Swann’s face. “Huh? You think I’m here to talk about that shit between you and Nut? Man, I ain’t stunting that shit. Ain’t nobody die; it is what it is. I’m talking about this thing with ya peeps Pharaoh and Ramses.”

  “Then this is something you should be discussing with one of them,” Li’l Monk told him.

  “I would if it were them that their street soldiers rallied around. From what I get from everybody I speak to Ramses and Pharaoh tend to the chickens, but it’s you and you alone who guards the hen house.”

  Li’l Monk snorted. “I can’t speak on what you’ve heard. I’m just a loyal soldier.”

  “Modest, I like that. Okay, I’ll cut right to it then. This tension between us and y’all ain’t good for nobody’s pockets. It needs to end before somebody gets hurt.”

  “Maybe if y’all hadn’t started it we wouldn’t have to finish it,” Li’l Monk spat.

  Swann and his boys exchanged confused glances. “Is that what Pharaoh and Ramses are feeding y’all? That we started this?” He gave a hearty laugh. “I heard Pharaoh had y’all over here drinking the Kool-Aid, but I didn’t know it was true. Young homie, let me school you to something: the Clarks didn’t start this war, Pharaoh did!”

  The accusation hit Li’l Monk like a physical blow. As far as any of them knew it was Clarks who had cast the first stone and Pharaoh’s crew was responding to the threat.

  “The dumbstruck look on your face tells me you ain’t versed in your history, so allow me to give you a quick recap,” Swann continued. “Your boy Pharaoh’s grip on the city ain’t what it used to be; it’s actually been slipping for years. Don’t get me wrong, his name is still strong out here, but it’s more from his legacy than anything he’s done in the last ten years. When Poppa became boss of bosses, everybody fell in line behind him, including your Pharaoh. Like the good old kings of Europe, Poppa allowed every man to keep his land and titles in exchange for their loyalty. As a reward he flooded their neighborhoods with some of the purest drugs they’d ever tasted and everybody got rich. Everybody went along with the program except Pharaoh. See, he was always a greedy muthafucka who wanted it all for himself. We warned Poppa that Pharaoh was gonna be a problem and that it’d be best to clip him early, but Poppa wasn’t a war lord. All he wanted to do was make money. So instead of having Pharaoh killed, he made him an outcast by cutting him off from that bomb-ass coke he was hitting everyone else and leaving him to fend for himself. Pharaoh was welcome to keep whatever territories he already controlled so long as his business didn’t overlap with Clark business. When Poppa was killed and the big chair went to Shai, Pharaoh saw it as an opening to make his play. Instead of him stepping up like a man, he cut a backdoor deal with the Italians to try to dethrone Shai and start a war in the streets. He figures when the smoke clears his sneaky ass will be the last man standing.”

  Li’l Monk shrugged. “Awesome story.”

  “It’s not just a story; it’s cold truth. You got no reason to believe me, but ask any one of these old timers and they’ll confirm what I’ve said to you about what kind of man Poppa Clark was and what he wanted for the city,” Swann told him.

  “Okay, even if it is true, it’s nothing new. Niggas been warring over territories for years. What makes this situation so different?”

  �
��The difference is, this is a conflict that Pharaoh doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning. Pharaoh still thinks it’s the nineties when he was king shit and hogging up the whole meal, but this is a new era. The game is the same, but the players are different and all of them want what the Clarks want, simply to make money. Pharaoh is forcing a lot of hands with his all-or-nothing stance and it isn’t going to end well. We got the muscle, the guns, and the blessings of every major player on the board. Pharaoh’s ego has finally proved to be his undoing, but that doesn’t mean stand-up cats like you have to go down with him.”

  “So what, I’m supposed leave Pharaoh hanging and get down with y’all?” Li’l Monk asked sarcastically.

  “It beats dying,” Swann shot back. “Li’l Monk, when this goes down, and trust me this is going to happen, Pharaoh will put out the call to arms and it’s you who the soldiers will rally behind. You have the power to help end this shit before it starts.”

  “Look, Swann, I understand your position, but you have to understand mine. When I was out here starving, it was Ramses and Pharaoh who put food in my stomach. I don’t know how they do it where you come from, but where I come from we stand on loyalty. That being said, I’m gonna pass on your offer and y’all niggas do what you gotta do,” he said, tightening his grips on the pistols.

  “You gotta be about the dumbest nigga in the world,” the younger dude who was with Swann said. “Swann, I don’t know why you ever trying to reason with these knucklehead-ass niggas. I say we just get to knocking these muthafuckas off, starting with him!”

  Li’l Monk took his hands from behind his back, brandishing the pistols. “I’m ready to die about mine; are you?”

  Swann’s men drew their guns, prepared to open fire, but Swann didn’t move. The tension in the air was so thick you could feel it on your skin. Swann regarded Li’l Monk, searching his face for signs of fear and hesitation. He was clearly outgunned but the look in his eyes said he didn’t care. True to his word, he was sincerely ready to die over what he believed.

  There was the soft sound of someone whistling the old tune “Camptown Races.” From the shadows emerged a rugged-looking man with dark eyes and a shotgun slung over his shoulder like he had an open carry license. For the first time since he was a kid, Li’l Monk was happy to see his dad. A few feet behind him stood Neighborhood, looking scared shitless. Li’l Monk thought he ran off, but he had gone for reinforcements.