“You being the powder connect, I didn’t mind. Shit, I don’t like Ice anyway. I’m glad his punk ass is outta here. But this new shit, with this dope, that can be a problem. On the real, if it were anybody else, I would have got at you.”
That’s it. I can’t take no more. “Yo, it ain’t that easy,” I interrupt.
“Nah Cash, I ain’t coming at you like that. Let me rephrase that; maybe my niggas would have got at you, or maybe your niggas would have got at me. Who knows? But what I’m saying is, if it were anyone else, I would’ve nipped it in the bud,” he says calmly. “I can’t have nobody running around here with better smack than me. I’m the Mayor!” He raises his voice. “Listen, I got a lot of respect for you and the things you’ve done. Please keep that shit out of this town,” he begs.
He pauses for a second or two. Neither of us says a word. I still have my finger on the trigger. My dogs are still going bananas. I look at Spook; he still has his gun out. We go at the staring bout again. He starts bopping his head up and down. “Cash, I’ll holler at you later,” Junebug shouts. He pulls off quickly. Spook follows. As he passes me, he winks at me and blows a kiss. I grab a handful of my dick and shake it at him, gesturing for him to blow me. Then I smile. He mumbles something to me as the other passengers smile. I read his lips; he said, ‘I got you, I got you.’ Now I realize it is officially on with me and him. I’m not worried; I don’t go nowhere without mine.
I picked the boys up. Now we’re on our way to the park. I want them to practice, because by the looks of it, they might be going to the championships. Right now their record is 14 and 1. The team they may have to go against is 15 and 0. They’re tough. It’s going to take a lot of hard work to beat them. But with a lot of practice, I’m sure we can pull it off. We have a few more games before the finals, so I’m going to stay on them.
On the way to the park, I let them walk the dogs. Ahmir loves the red-nosed one, and Ahmad loves the other one. I guess they love them because they share the same characteristics. The red-nosed one is aggressive and moody just like Ahmir. Wherein the other one follows the first one’s lead. He doesn’t get ruffled up unless the other one does. Just like Ahmad, he doesn’t get hyped up or upset unless he sees Ahmir get angry.
The dogs drag them all the way to the park. The dogs are entirely too strong for them, but they refuse to let me walk them. I laugh as the dogs run, causing the boys to fall on their faces. One time Ahmir must have gotten dragged for a half a block when the dog tried to get hold of this lady’s poodle. I didn’t stop him. He couldn’t hurt it. He had his muzzle on. I wish I had a video camera to tape that. That was the funniest shit I ever saw. It feels good to laugh! That’s the only thing that is keeping my mind off of Junebug and his little goon squad. I hope I don’t have to get into this with them, but it seems like I’m not going to be able to avoid it.
CHAPTER 23
Later that evening
Someone gave us a tip on where Wu and his baby’s mother live. Twenty minutes ago, Mike received a call. Someone informed him that Wu’s girlfriend just came through and picked him up. They’re on their way home. But guess what? We’re already here. At this moment, we’re sitting three houses down from his house. When he comes through the block, he won’t even notice us. We’re in Mike’s van. The windows are so dark, it’s impossible to see inside. He just got the van about a week ago. He keeps it stashed, so no one has seen it.
Slim is at the steering wheel. I’m in the seat directly behind him, and Mike is sitting in the passenger’s seat. Mike has a nine millimeter, and I have a sawed-off shotgun. When Wu comes through, he’s going to get the surprise of a lifetime.
“Listen. Let’s go over this one more time,” I suggest. “Slim, when they come through, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to cut them off,” he replies.
“Mike, what are you going to do?” I ask.
“I’m going to jump out, snatch the girl out the car, and lay her face down,” he replies.
“OK, then I’m going to do him, right there,” I state. “Mike, make sure you get her far away from the car. I don’t want any mistakes. She’s innocent.”
My heart is racing. I have never wanted anything this bad. You can’t imagine how bad I want this.
Minutes later, Slim spots the Mitsubishi Eclipse, slow rolling up the block. “Bang Man, here he comes!”
As the car creeps up, I notice their windows are slightly tinted. You can only see shadows. The car pulls up and stops in the middle of the street. Slim steps on the gas. They begin to turn into their garage. Scuuuurrrr! Slim takes off in the nick of time. Crash! Their car smacks into the back of our van. Mike jumps out with no hesitation. He aims at the driver’s side window. Then with his left hand, he reaches for the door handle. I jump out. I’m already at the passenger’s side. I have the shotgun aimed at the window. Mike yanks the door open, as planned.
“OWW!” The girl screams at the top of her lungs.
“Get the fuck out,” Mike shouts. The girl freezes. She’s in total shock.
“I said get the fuck out,” he repeats. He drags her out of the car and pushes her to the back of the van. “Lay the fuck down!” he demands. She’s crying hysterically. “Now!” Mike gives me the OK. I snatch the door open with my left hand, while aiming the shotgun with my right. My finger is on the trigger ready to squeeze. It’s over. The moment I’ve been waiting for; sweet revenge. The interior light comes on. “Aghhh!” Surprise- no Wu! The barrel of the shotgun is resting on the forehead of a small boy. “Aghh!” he screams. The kid looks into my eyes with fear and helplessness. I look back at Mike. He has a confused look on his face. He’s waiting to hear the sound of the shotgun ringing off, but instead he hears the sound of an innocent kid screaming for his life.
“He ain’t in here!” I shout.
“What?” he asks.
“He ain’t in here!” I repeat. The boy is about five years old. He’s scared to death. His eyes are stretched wide open.
“Aghh!” he cries.
“Don’t worry little man; we’re not going to hurt you,” I mumble, as I hide the gun behind my leg. “Pull up,” I instruct Slim. I then run to the back and pull the girl to her feet. “I’m sorry,” I plead. “This wasn’t meant for you.” She’s screaming bloody murder. “Go ahead and get in your car,” I shout. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Mike is already in the van. He has the door stretched wide open for me. I jump in the van and slam the door. Scuuurrr! Slim peels off.
“Damn! A fucking baby!” I shout. “I was two seconds away from killing a baby! She must have dropped him off and picked up the kid.”
I sit quietly. Right now I feel like shit. I’ve never seen anyone as scared as them. That girl thought we were going to kill her and her son. Wu doesn’t realize the jeopardy he has put his family in. He doesn’t know. That dumb shit could have cost him dearly. He doesn’t realize the seriousness of the game he’s playing. These young boys just don’t get it!
CHAPTER 24
It’s been two days since I’ve seem Slim. I haven’t seen him since the night we almost killed Wu’s girl and son. This isn’t like him. He usually calls me before he goes anywhere. I’ve checked all his hangouts; everyone claims they haven’t seen him. Desire said he came in late last night and left early this morning. I’m confused. I don’t understand why he hasn’t called me. It’s not like we had a falling out. Everything was fine, at least I think everything was fine the last time I dropped him off.
Ring! Ring! My phone is ringing. “Hello? Yeah! Oh, what up baby? Alright! How long? Bet, I’ll meet you there.”
That was my man, AJ. He’s one of my out-of-town plugs. He wants 50 bricks. I have 70 stashed at Desire’s house, so there’s no use in me going all the way to my sister’s house.
I pull up to Desire’s house. While parking, I notice Ahmir in the backyard bouncing a basketball. I back up; I don’t want them to see me. They’ll want to talk, and that’ll slow me down. I slam the car into
park, snatch the keys out, and jump out of the car. I run up the stairs and ring the bell. Desire comes out almost instantly. I blow right past her.
“Damn Cash! You could at least say hi,” she screams sarcastically.
“What up Dee,” I shout. I run into Slim’s room and slam the door. I go to his closet and reach all the way to the back. I fumble around for a few seconds until I feel the strongbox. I grab it and pull it off the shelf.
This is Slim’s strongbox. Only two keys fit this box. I have one and he has the other; just in case something happens to me, he can get in it. Slim is the only person I trust like that.
The first thing I see after I get the strongbox open is two packs of unused syringes. This makes me feel uncomfortable. Even though I know he shoots dope, I still hate to picture him all slumped over, poking himself like a junkie. I mean, I know he’s a junkie, but I sort of hate to admit it.
I know the entire world looks at him like a filthy junkie, but I see past that. When I look at Slim, his outer shell is invisible to me. It’s like I’m looking and talking to his inner self. It’s like reading a good book that has its cover snatched off. At first you say to yourself, I’m not reading that raggedy old book, but once you get into it, you realize it’s the best book you’ve ever read. Once you start reading and enjoying the contents of the book or appreciating the knowledge the book has to offer, you forget about the fact that the book doesn’t have a cover.
I grab a sleeve. Each sleeve consists of five bricks taped together in a line. Each brick is individually wrapped in newspaper. There are fifty packets of dope to each square brick. The total size of a brick is about, two inches long, and two inches wide.
Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. What the? The eighth sleeve has been tampered with. The seal is broken. Instead of five bricks, this one only has four bricks. I examine the other thirteen sleeves. One, two, three, four, five, six, etc. The rest are all in place. I don’t understand this. Each sleeve had five bricks in it. I wrapped them up myself. I brought these here a few days ago. My man was supposed to pick them up, but he never showed up.
I dig further into the strongbox. Maybe this one came loose. Maybe there’s a single brick, somewhere, in the bottom. I dig further. I feel something deep in the corner. I grasp it and pull it out. It’s a piece of torn newspaper that matches the tear on the sleeve. Someone tore this one open and took a brick out. “Hmphh!” Not someone, Slim did it. I can’t believe him. This is why I haven’t seen or heard from him. He’s ducking me. Right now he’s probably somewhere high as a kite. I don’t believe he’d steal from me. He’s never done this before. I have left up to fifteen kilos in his possession. Sometimes he has held all of the buy money overnight before going to see Juan. Never has it been a penny short. Why would he only take one brick when he could have taken all seventy of them? Damn, Slim! I can’t believe him! I can’t fully blame him. I should have never put him under that kind of pressure. After all, he is a junkie.
CHAPTER 25
One day later
I still haven’t heard from Slim. I’m fucked up behind this. I didn’t think he would ever betray my trust. It’s not even the fact of the $300. It’s the principle. I’ve been taking care of him ever since I came home. I bought him all new clothes. I make sure he has money in his pocket every day. Why would he steal from me?
Last night before going in, I stopped by Desire’s house to drop off some money. She needed pamper money for her baby. She was ashamed to ask me. When I got to the house, little man was so wet, his soggy pamper was leaking all over his legs. That was one time I sincerely felt sorry for Desire. In fact, I felt so sorry for her that I ended up giving her $250, instead of $20 like she asked me for.
When I handed her the money, she was almost in tears. Desire has really put herself in a terrible situation. She’s 36 years old, no job, no degree, and a 16 month-old baby with a crack addict for a father. And to top it all off, she has a teenager for a boyfriend. She’s really screwed up. Her greed and passion for the fast life knocked her off course. When she was younger, all she wanted to do was live like the rap stars. Whatever she saw M.C. Lyte or Queen Latifah wear when their videos played on Hott Trax, she just had to have it. I always told her that would be her downfall. If she had listened to me, she wouldn’t be suffering like this. But she didn’t; now she has to pay the price.
Before leaving the house, I told her to call me as soon as Slim comes in, no matter what the time is. He must not have come home last night, because she never called. I didn’t tell her what he did. Our business is our business. I would never cross him like that.
Ring! Ring! My car phone is ringing. I press the intercom button, which sits on my steering wheel. “Hello,” I answer.
“Cash, this Mike! Where are you?” he asks.
“I’m around. Why?”
“Come through!” he shouts. “I have something important to tell you!”
“All right, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Click! Now what?
It didn’t even take me ten minutes. I was right around the corner when he called. I got there in four minutes.
As I turn the corner, I can barely drive through the block, they have so much traffic coming through. Mike has turned a dead-end street into a main avenue. As soon as he sees me, he jogs over to the car. He grabs the door handle anxiously.
“Did you hear what happened?” he asks, before he sits down.
“Huh?”
“Did you hear what happened?” he repeats.
“With who?” I ask.
“Your boy,” he replies.
“My boy, who?”
“Your boy Wu.”
My heart beats a little faster. With a confused look on my face, I ask, “Na, what happened?”
“He got mirked last night.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I shout.
“No bullshit,” Mike replies.
“Yeah?’
“Word up!” Mike replies.
“Where at?” I ask.
“In the PJ’s.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“The word on the street is he ran up in some Jamaican boy’s house, tied him up in front of his family, robbed him, and killed him.”
“Yeah?”
“I heard he came off!” Mike shouts. “They say he got like 10 pounds of boogie (marijuana), 2 kilos, and $40,000.”
“Damn, he came up!” I shout. That sting made the little swindle he caught on me look like chump change.
“No, he didn’t. He didn’t even get the chance to spend a dime of that shit,” Mike replies. “He went in the Jamaican boy’s spot at 1 in the morning. By 9 the next night, the boy’s family had the projects sealed off. I heard they had all kinds of machine guns. Them dreads were like 40 deep!”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Peep this,” he adds. “This is the fucked-up part, right here.”
“What?”
“They ran up in Wu’s house and got all the drugs and money back.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I shout.
“That ain’t the worst part though,” Mike claims. “Check this. After they got everything back, they raped and killed his bitch. They shot her in the face twice. When the police found her, she was gagged with her own bloody panties.”
A lump forms in my throat. Damn. I instantly picture the pretty little young girl we dragged out of the car that night. She was so beautiful. Damn, she was innocent. She didn’t have anything to do with Wu’s bullshit. The only thing she was guilty of was being in love with the wrong dude. “That’s fucked up,” I reply. “She was innocent.”
“Hey man, Wu should have thought about that when he did that fuck shit,” Mike shouts.
“I know man, but damn, she didn’t have shit to do with it,” I shout back.
“Yes she did. She was his bitch.”
Whoa! I didn’t know Mike was this cold. I feel sorry for the young girl. I feel sorry for her mother and father. I feel sorry for her baby. Her baby? �
�Where was the little boy?”
“I don’t know. No one mentioned him. He must not have been there.”
“That’s a good thing.” Damn, now he’s going to grow up with no mother or father. “How did they find out who did it?”
“They say his stupid ass was bragging around town all day. Somebody must have gave him up,” Mike replies. “They went to his girlfriend’s house first, and then they went to the projects.”
Well, that’s one problem out of the way, even though I would have loved to have the satisfaction of doing it myself. This feels just as good. It also saves me the risk of me doing 30 years if I would have got caught. No need in feeling sorry for Wu; you do dirt, you get dirt.
“Ride with me real quick,” I suggest.
“Where to?” Mike asks.
“Through the projects. I want to see their faces.”
“Hold up, let me tell my little man to hold it down while I’m gone.” Mike rolls down the window. “Yo Rah Rah, I’ll be right back! Hold it down!” he yells, from the window.
We pull off. I just want to see the looks on their faces. Two fallen soldiers in less than three weeks. I still think about the other kid. I didn’t really want Latif to kill him I just wanted him to pop him a few times to teach him a lesson. I wanted him to realize that shit is real out here.
Before I know it, we’re at the projects. The parking lot is rather empty. I don’t know if it’s because it’s early in the morning or the fact that Wu got murdered last night.
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