When It All Falls Down 4 - It Just Ain't Over Yet: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady)

by Tamicka Higgins

  ***

  When the time came for Tramar, Jackson, and Ayana to get into Byron’s Bugatti and head over to meet the L’Akeeshi chick, Ayana was full of apprehension. Sure, she was grateful that Jackson’s friend was willing to help them out. This was especially so considering that he was on house arrest and was risking going to prison by doing such a thing. However, the description that Durrell had given the three of them of L’Akeeshi was just not convincing. In fact, Ayana was getting bad vibes.

  “You okay back there, baby?” Tramar asked. He noticed how quiet Ayana had been since they left Durrell’s house nearly twenty minutes ago. Since she’d climbed into the backseat, she hadn’t said two words to them.

  Ayana let out a deep sigh. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I’m okay, I mean…”

  “You mean what?” Tramar asked, wishing that this car was big enough for him to climb to the back. He’d hopped into the front passenger seat with Jackson behind the wheel. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

  “I just don’t know about this chick,” Ayana said. “I got a real bad feelin’ about her.”

  Tramar chuckled, looking over at Jackson, causing him to chuckle as well. “Oh God,” Tramar said. “Here we go with this shit. Now you back there feelin’ some type of way because we goin’ to see some hood chick…some hood chick in Omaha.”

  “Her bein’ in Omaha ain’t got nothin’ to do with it, Tramar,” Ayana said. “I mean, somethin’ just don’t feel right. I wonder what Durrell meant when he was tellin’ us that she is this and she is that.”

  “Who the fuck cares?” Tramar asked, smiling. “Ayana, we don’t even fuckin’ live here. And, as far as I can see, ain’t gon’ be no reason for us to ever come back through here. Ain’t shit that gon’ bring us back here. All we gon’ do is go over here, see about this car she told Durrell about. Then we gon’ see if she got any ideas for us to get rid of this car.” He glanced at the time. “I wanna be on the road to get back to Chicago by the evening. If we push it, we can be back there tomorrow.”

  “And you sure about us goin’ back to Chicago?” Jackson asked. “I mean, do you think it might be better to call your family and tell them what the deal is?”

  “What the fuck you mean am I sure I wanna go back to Chicago?” Tramar asked. “You heard what the nigga’s brother Ryan said on the fuckin’ phone when we was back in Durrell’s basement and shit. He talkin’ bout how he gon’ go after my family and shit. That nigga don’t know who he fuckin’ with now. I don’t play that shit. They betta not go after my daddy and step mama again. Plus, I wouldn’t even be able to call them if I wanted to. You know I had to ditch my phone and shit. And you know niggas can’t remember phone numbers nowadays. I don't know they numbers so that I could even call them.”

  “I feel you on that,” Jackson said.

  Tramar went back to focusing on Ayana and her apparent attitude. “Ayana, look,” he said, shaking his head. “I know how you feel about all this. I’m tellin’ you. I don’t give a fuck how this chick acts when we get there. We just try’na get her to help us to we can get the fuck outta this town or city or whatever you wanna call it.”

  Tramar looked back at the text message that Durrell had sent to Jackson’s phone. In the message, he clearly spelled out the way they needed to take to get to L’Akeeshi's neighborhood. At first, Tramar himself was a little anxious. He really didn’t like going into hoods in other cities without an ambassador, as he would call it, who was from the city. However, as he always believed, desperate times call for desperate measures.

  Jackson slowly drove the Bugatti into the rougher parts of Omaha. The three of them looked out of the windows at dilapidated houses, as well as blocks with long rows of empty fields. Every so many corners, they might see guys standing about. Without a doubt, they would pause their conversation to look at the Bugatti roll by. Some even pulled their balled-up fists to their mouths as they said, “Damn.”

  “So this is the hood in Omaha, huh?” Tramar said out loud, looking around.

  Ayana nodded, looking out the window. It amazed her how the world looked outside of Chicago. In many ways, Omaha reminded Ayana of a trip she’d taken down to Indianapolis when she was younger. While Indianapolis was easily two times the size of Omaha, the two cities did look very similar in the way they were laid out. Omaha was basically big and flat with a handful of tall buildings making up downtown. It was a far cry from Los Angeles.

  When Jackson pulled onto the street that Tramar had announced through the text message, he slowed down as he drove deeper into the neighborhood. The street was narrow, with parking on both sides. They could look up into the yards and see clusters of people hanging around on the porches. He moved cautiously as he said, “Man, I’m glad we gettin’ into a car that’s a little more low key. You see all the attention this car gets and shit?”

  “Yeah,” Tramar said, looking around. “I saw them niggas was lookin’ at us on the way up here. Let’s just hurry up and make this shit quick. I hope your buddy ain’t set us up or no shit like that.”

  “Naw, man,” Jackson said, shaking his head. “He wouldn’t do no shit like that. Settin’ us up would only make his life worse ‘cause then he’d be connected to us and shit. Trust me, man. Durrell wants everything to go as smoothly as possibly so he don’t draw no attention to himself.”

  “Yeah, well,” Tramar said, his voice full of skepticism. “It woulda been nice if the nigga wasn’t on house arrest and shit and coulda came with us. You know how I feel about ridin’ up into hoods that I don’t know nothin’ about.”

  “Nigga, calm down,” Jackson said. “We not in Chicago or Los Angeles or no shit like that. This is fuckin’ Omaha. You know we can outsmart these niggas here, so I don’t even know why you trippin’. Like you was just sayin’ to the Mrs. in the back there, we just comin’ here to get what we need, then we gon’ get the fuck outta here.”

  Jackson slowly rolled up to 1289, remembering that it was the address from the text message. “This is it right here,” he said, pulling up out front.

  Tramar looked up and down the street. “Hell naw,” he said, not liking this scenario. “Let me hit this chick up, and see if she got a way we can pull around back and park back there or somethin’. It look like she got a garage and a backyard. I’d rather do that shit than to be parked right out front like this. But, at least it ain’t like Chicago. Ain’t a bunch of apartment buildings with so many people crammed into a small space. That’s at least a good thing.”

  Tramar pressed the number that Durrell had forwarded to him in the text message. “Hello?” he said when L’Akeeshi answered the phone. “We out front.”

  Seconds passed and the three of them could see the curtain split.

  “Yeah, we in the black Bugatti,” Tramar said in response to her question from the window. “That’s why we was callin’ in. These niggas up and down the street lookin’ at this shit like they’ll kill to get it or somethin’. I wanna know if we can pull around back or somethin’… Okay… Thanks…”

  Tramar hung up the phone and told Jackson it was cool to drive around to the back of the house, through the alley. From the few words Ayana heard L’Akeeshi say, it definitely sounded as if this chick might have a bit of an attitude problem. Ayana decided that she would simply hold her head high and not let her get the best of her if that was the case. Today was not the day for any extra mess to pop off.

  Jackson pulled around back and pulled into an open grassy area between the side of the garage and the fence that separated the property from its neighbor to the south. When they got out of the car, they checked their surroundings. Doing this had practically become second nature since they were now wanted criminals. They made their way up to the back door of the two-story house and stepped up to the back door. Tramar noticed that there was a three-car garage on the property.

  When L’Akeeshi opened the door, she looked the three of them up and down. “Damn,” she said. “I ain’t think y’all would be gettin’ here so
quick. Come on in while I’m finishin’ up on the phone.”

  The three of them walked into the kitchen, having noticed L’Akeeshi's somewhat rural accent that was obviously mixed with being from an island. Immediately, Ayana’s gut feelings had come to fruition. The moment she laid eyes on L’Akeeshi, she sensed the girl had an attitude that someone could smell all the way in San Francisco. When L’Akeeshi sharply turned her neck around and looked at the three of them in the kitchen, Ayana could feel her eyes staring her down. Ayana sized L’Akeeshi up quickly. She looked to be about the same height as she was; however, she was much thicker, particularly below the waist. Long pink and blonde hair extensions flowed down from her head. When she listened to her talk into the phone that was pressed to the side of her face, Ayana almost wanted to cringe.

  “Y’all ain’t got to stand there lookin’ like y’all done seen a ghost or somethin’,” L’Akeeshi said. “Go ahead and have a seat while I finish up this phone conversation.”

  The three of them sat down at the kitchen table as they waited for L’Akeeshi to finish up with her phone conversation. Knowing that Ayana was probably feeling some kind of way, Tramar reached under the table and rubbed her leg. He smiled, trying to do whatever was necessary to keep her from worrying so much. Ayana smiled back, knowing that no matter what facial expression she put on her face, she could still looked pissed. The vibe she was getting from L’Akeeshi was just too much to ignore.

  After five minutes passed, L’Akeeshi walked into the kitchen and smiled. “Sorry about that,” she said, clearly putting an arch in her back – a movement that caught Tramar and Jackson’s attention. “I was on the phone with my cousin, and you know how bitches over in Iowa be. They don’t be wantin’ to get off the phone or nothin’. So, Durrell was tellin’ me on the phone that y’all need a car to get outta town real quick, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Jackson said, standing up. “We’re headed out west, and we need somethin’ a little more low key then what we got.”

  “Awe,” L’Akeeshi said. “Well…it’s good y’all thinkin’ ahead about that shit. Well, come on out to the garage. I got the car out there.”

  The three of them rose up from the kitchen table and followed L’Akeeshi out to her cinderblock three-car garage. The entire walk across the backyard, Ayana couldn’t help but notice how L’Akeeshi walked with an extra hard switch in her step. It was very clear, woman to woman, that L’Akeeshi was walking in such a way on purpose. She was just trying a little too hard, and Ayana could see that it was catching Jackson’s attention, if not Tramar’s as well. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed glued to what was walking ahead of him.

  When L’Akeeshi led them into the garage, she flipped on a light and pointed at the car. “Here it is,” she said. “I don’t know what Durrell told you, but this car belong to this nigga I used to date back when. His ass got locked up for somethin’ and got time in prison out in the country. So, now, I been stuck with this car, and I just want it gone. Here are the keys.” She reached into her extremely tight blue jeans and pulled the keys out.

  Ayana shook her head, thinking, Girl if them jeans are any tighter, you would have lost your hand in there.

  Tramar grabbed the keys then pulled his bag off of his back. “How much you want for this?” he asked, sternly.

  L’Akeeshi smacked her lips together before putting the tip of her finger on top of her tongue in a very sexually suggestive way. “Just give me a few stacks for it, and we coo,” she responded. “Y’all really doin’ me a favor by takin’ this thing.”

  “Well,” Tramar said. “That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about too. We need to get rid of this Bugatti we drivin’ too.”

  “The cold ass car y’all niggas pulled up in?” L’Akeeshi asked, very surprised at such a comment. “What are y’all gettin’ rid of that for? Oh God, what y’all niggas done did? Is there a body on that car or somethin’?”

  Jackson and Tramar looked at one another for a moment. “Somethin’ like that,” Tramar answered.

  “What you mean somethin’ like that?” L’Akeeshi asked. “I mean, I’m just askin’ ‘cause a bitch need to know what she gettin’ into and stuff before she even go any further.”

  “That’s the thing,” Ayana spoke up and said. “We figured the less you knew, the better off you’d be.”

  L’Akeeshi's eyes quickly turned to Ayana. She looked her up and down. “Where you supposed to be from?” she asked. “The way you talkin’, I can tell you not from around here.”

  “I’m actually from Chicago, if you must know,” Ayana snapped back. “And I was just lettin’ you know,” she smiled, “’cause I don’t want you to get into no trouble and stuff, you know. Just lookin’ out for another young, black woman.”

  L’Akeeshi smiled and grinned, putting her hand on her hip. “Well,” she said, “ain’t that nice of you. Thank you so much for bein’ considerate. It really is hard to find that kind of thing nowadays. So, anyway, like I was sayin’ before I was interrupted, what would a bitch be takin’ on if she took that car off your hands?”

  “Look, L’Akeeshi,” Jackson said, recognizing that he needed to neutralize the situation, “we not here to try to get you caught up in no fucked up situation. But we in a real bad spot right now, and this Bugatti we got is prolly gon’ have the police lookin’ for it and shit if they not lookin’ already. We don’t care what you do with it. We don’t even care if you scrap the shit. We was thinkin’ about gettin’ rid of it by puttin’ it downtown on some street or somethin’ and just leavin’ the keys in it.”

  L’Akeeshi chuckled. “Yeah, that might work somewhere else,” she said. “But here in Omaha, them white people done put plenty of money into puttin’ them cameras up all over downtown and stuff. Y’all can’t just do that and think they not gon’ know it was you.”

  “And that’s why we came to you,” Tramar said, stepping forward. “Durrell told us that you might be able to help us get rid of this car.”

  “And if I do?” L’Akeeshi asked. “I mean, it would be a big fuckin’ risk for me to take on try’na help y’all get rid of this car. I mean, it ain’t like I can just drive it out to the country or nothin’ and nobody is gon’ see me. You said it yourself when you called in here to see about parkin’ out back. It do draw a lot of attention.”

  “So, ain’t nothin’ that you can do to help us?” Jackson asked.

  “Naw, man,” Tramar said, realizing that they were approaching the point of practically begging. “We can just figure out another way to get rid of it.”

  Tramar lifted his bag of money up onto a counter against the garage wall. He grabbed the stacks out, flipped through them then handed them to L’Akeeshi. “Since Durrell got me in touch with you, I trust you,” she said. “And I can help you get rid of that car. When you pull this car out of the garage back that one in and leave the keys.”

  “What you gon’ do with it?” Jackson asked.

  Quickly, L’Akeeshi’s eyes shifted in Jackson’s direction. “The less you know, the better,” she said, smiling. “For your own safety, I guess you could say.”

  L’Akeeshi walked out of the garage as Tramar pulled the car out into the alley. Jackson got behind the wheel of the Bugatti and backed it into the garage. Once they’d finished, they thanked L’Akeeshi for her help and headed on their way.

  “Man, you betta hope that shit don’t come back to burn us,” Tramar said as they pulled away from the neighborhood.

  “Man, it won’t,” Jackson said. “Now, we just gotta worry about gettin’ back to Chicago and shit.”

  “Yeah, before that nigga do somethin’ stupid and go after my family,” Tramar said.

  In the backseat, Ayana looked out of the window. She understood why they needed to go back to Chicago – why they wouldn’t be going any further just yet as they’d planned. However, she still wondered if doing such was the right choice. This was turning out to literally be the ride of their life. And now, here they were, headed back
down the interstate. Within minutes, they’d crossed back over into Iowa and the land on both sides of the highway faded from urbanized to rural. It was about to be a long trip back to Chicago, Ayana thought. She let out a deep breath as she gazed out of the window, ignoring her woman’s intuition that something bad was going to happen. Ayana looked out of the window and saw gray clouds coming over the sky. Symbolically, it made her think about her feelings even more.

  Chapter 6

  Frank and his wife Vivica still couldn’t get used to being back at home. Since they’d been dropped off by a taxi on Monday morning, their entire world had changed. Frank reflected, as he sat on his back porch with a newspaper and a cup of coffee, the look on Precious’ face when he and his wife dropped Quan off. Never in Frank’s life had he seen a mother with such a distraught face. While he never really cared for her or her attitude, he managed to step inside the apartment and talk with Precious for a moment. He and Vivica listened to her recount what had happened with the detectives coming to her door.

  Today, however, Frank was starting to feel a little more at ease. Still, he and his wife were not getting much sleep. Beyond that, they were even a little hesitant to turn on the lights at night. Frank would wake up and go downstairs, doing a quick patrol of the house to make sure that there were no more sneak attacks. He really was a little disappointed in himself for how he had handled the way Byron’s boys had rushed into the house.

  “You not still thinking about that, are you, Frank?” Vivica asked.