Block Party

by Al-Saadiq Banks

  Right now it’s all or nothing. I’m in too deep. It’s on now. It’s them or me. Whoever gets caught slipping is out of here. I’ll be damned if it’s going to be me.

  CHAPTER 34

  Two Hours Later

  “Yo, them guys gotta pay!” I shout.

  “Easy, Big Time!”

  “Easy my ass!” I reply. “They think they can’t be touched. I have to show them, if you cross me there will be repercussions. If I don’t react I might as well pack the family up and move to another country, I won’t be able to live here in peace.”

  “Bang man, we’re outnumbered!” Slim shouts. “It’s only you and me! Listen Big Time; we have to be very careful. You see them boys don’t care nothing about murder. We have to move wisely,” he explains. “It’s five of them that we know about. That’s not including, his fans that will do anything for him, just to be a part of his team. They’ll do it just to be able to say they put in work for the Mayor. Do you know how strong that will make a niggas Resume look?” he asks. “Big Time just keep a cool head. Think about how we are going to handle this. These boys ain’t rookies. We have to move with wisdom, not ego. Ego will get us one of two things, a hundred years or an early grave. Me, I don’t want either of those choices.”

  Ring! Ring! My phone interrupts Slim. “Pardon me Slim. Hello?”

  “Hello, is this Cash?” the caller asks.

  “Who is this?” I question.

  “The Mayor!” the caller shouts. My heart starts pounding harder.

  “Listen, motherfucker!” I shout.

  “No Cash, you listen,” he interrupts.

  Slim is looking right in my mouth. He doesn’t know who it is, but he knows something isn’t right. “Psst! Psst!”

  “Do you see what you caused?” Junebug asks. “I asked you to keep that shit out of town. I didn’t tell you, I asked you. But you didn’t listen. Now two lives are fucked up behind you,” he states calmly. He’s speaking so calmly, like this is ordinary. His nonchalant attitude is really pissing me off. Here it is, I’m yelling my head off, and he’s interrupting me with the softest voice.

  “Behind me?” I ask.

  “Yeah, behind you,” he replies. “I could have got straight at you.”

  “Listen Junebug, it ain’t that easy,” I interrupt.

  “No, you listen Donald. It is that easy,” he whispers. “Right before we went to Mike’s little block, we saw you and the old fiend riding. My goons wanted you, but I spared you on the strength of my brother. But if you keep on going against the grain, eventually all that, my brother shit, is going to wear out. Oh, and another thing; don’t think that was a robbery. I don’t need your dope. I let my goons keep that for themselves,” he whispers sarcastically. “That wasn’t a robbery. That was to show you that I mean what I say.”

  “You should have came straight at me. I’m the one supplying the dope! My man didn’t have shit to do with it. He was innocent.”

  “He wasn’t innocent,” Junebug whispers. “He was in the game.” He laughs.

  “Fuck you!” I shout. “Fuck your brother, too! Do whatever you have to do, because I’m going to do me regardless!”

  “All right Cash, remember you said this. I’m going to make sure I tell Dre that.” Click! Here goes the dial tone. He hung up on me. I look at the phone and then I slam it onto the floor of the car.

  “Bang Man, why the hell did you just say that? What the fuck did I just tell you?” Slim asks, with an assertive tone. “Are you crazy?” Slim has never talked to me like this. I must have really pissed him off. “Now you have to do you,” he shouts. “You shouldn’t have threatened him. Then maybe we could have snuck up on them. But now that you opened up your big ass mouth and warned him, they’re going to be on point.”

  Slim is absolutely right. That’s the dumbest shit I could have done. But fuck it! I already said it. I can’t take it back.

  We ride around for an hour without saying a word. The ringing of my phone breaks the silence.

  “Hello?”

  “Cash, is my father with you?” This is Desire.

  “Yeah, hold on!” I snap. I’m still pissed at Junebug. I pass Slim the phone.

  “Uh huh?” he answers. “Yeah? Is he all right? OK, I’ll be there shortly!” He hangs the phone up, and passes it back to me. “Psst! Psstt!” He starts with his teeth.

  “What’s up?”

  “Bang Man, somebody shot the Doctor’s house up!” he shouts, with a high-pitched, scary voice.

  “Yeah, is he all right?”

  “Yeah, luckily he wasn’t in there,” Slim replies.

  We sit in silence.

  “You know that was the Mayor’s work,” Slim assumes.

  “You think so?” I ask. I knew it from the beginning. I just didn’t want to say it first.

  “Yeah, I told you everybody knows about him cutting the dope for you. Damn!”

  All kinds of thoughts start running through my head. He knows where my kids live. Will he go there next? Maybe he will; maybe he won’t. I have to get them out of there! I can’t take a chance like that.

  “Listen Slim, ya’ll gotta leave the house.”

  “Leave the house?” he asks, with a clueless look on his face.

  “Yeah, at least until this shit blows over. They might go there next.”

  “Bang Man, where the hell are we going to go?”

  “Ya’ll can stay at the stash house. I’ll move the work to the basement of my sister’s house. No one knows about that spot.” Slim doesn’t respond.

  The stash house is on a secluded block in a middle-class area. No one in their right mind will come there shooting.

  “So, what do you think?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. I just wish this shit could have been avoided,” he replies.

  After that, me and Slim go to get Desire and the three kids. They grab up a few items, and we’re out the door.

  After I get the kids into the apartment, I explain everything to Desire. She’s angry at first, but she understands. Desire is gangster. She’s been around this street shit all her life, plus I schooled her back in the day. My kids, on the other hand, can not understand why they have to leave their house.

  CHAPTER 35

  It’s now 3:30 in the morning. Me and Slim are on a mission. Slim informed me that every morning one of the goons opens up the block at 4:30A.M. sharp. He remembers that from when he used to work for Junebug.

  We pull up in front of the abandoned building. It’s 4’o clock on the dot. It’s still pitch black out here. The block is empty. This doesn’t even seem like the same block. During the day, you can’t even drive through here due to the heavy drug trafficking.

  We’re sitting patiently, waiting for someone to arrive. The windows are so dark, no one will ever know we’re in here. We’re in my wife’s old car. I’m sure no one will recognize it because I had it painted black and tinted the windows just for occasions like this. My wife doesn’t even know about the car. She thinks I sold it.

  We’re sitting quietly. “Psstt! Psstt!” Besides the irritating noise of Slim picking his teeth, everything is quiet. The radio isn’t even playing. Slim is in a daze. I can tell he’s nervous. He hasn’t stopped picking his teeth since I picked him up a half hour ago. He has butterflies, but he’s trying to act like everything is fine. I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit nervous myself. The closer it gets to 4:30, the harder my heart pounds.

  Twenty minutes have passed. It’s 4:20. I see headlights approaching. “Bingo!” Slim shouts. My heart starts racing. I pull the gun from my waist and I exhale. I must admit, I’m a little more than nervous right now. The lights are getting closer. “Yep, that’s them.”

  The Grand Prix pulls up slowly and parks diagonally from us. Only one person is in there. Yes! That makes me feel a little more at ease. Now this should be easy.

  “That’s Sean right there,” says Slim. “He’s the youngest one out of all of them. I don’t even think he’s 17.”

 
Seventeen? He’s nothing but a baby. I feel bad doing this, but I have to. This little boy is playing a grown man’s game. If I let him slide, this will be the same motherfucker who will put one in my head.

  Sean still hasn’t gotten out of the car yet. He’s busy talking on the phone. I wonder if he sees us sitting here. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t gotten out yet.

  I constantly look around to see if anyone else is pulling up. Finally, the interior light comes on. He’s getting out.

  After stepping out of the car, he slams the door behind him. He has a shopping bag in his left hand, and he’s holding his cellular phone to his ear with his right hand. He glances around before crossing the street. He’s having a good conversation. He’s smiling and everything.

  As he approaches our car, I slump back in the seat just in case he can see my image through the tints. Beep! Beep! The loud sound of a horn breaks my concentration.

  Double-parked right next to me is a Jeep Cherokee. I sit up attentively. A pretty white woman rolls down her window and screams, “Baby! Baby!” Sean turns around. “Let me get two,” she demands.

  Sean covers the phone and yells, “It’s not 4:30 yet!”

  “Come on, please, I have to get to work,” she begs. “I have a patient going into labor as we speak.” Sean hesitantly digs his hand into the shopping bag while walking back to her truck. He then reaches into the truck, passes her the dope, and takes the money from her. As he starts back through the alleyway, the woman is still sitting there.

  “Damn bitch, pull off!” Sean is almost halfway through the alleyway.

  “Bang Man, we can’t let him get to the back. They have guns stashed back there,” Slim reveals.

  I’m so anxious right now. I look at the woman in the truck. She’s tearing the bag open. She takes a big sniff and then another. She then takes a third one; this one is the biggest of them all.

  Finally, she reseals the bag. After placing the bag into her pocketbook, she immediately pulls her visor down and checks herself in the mirror to make sure there is no sign of residue still on her nose. After wiping her nose off, she slowly pulls off.

  As she cruises away, I can’t help but notice her license plates. They read MD 1234. This bitch really is a doctor. Ain’t that something, your precious little baby being delivered by a dope fiend!

  The light at the corner is in the process of changing from green to yellow. She speeds right through the red light. I crack the door open and quietly step out. Sean is so busy yelling on the phone that he doesn’t even hear me. I slowly tiptoe behind him. I’m gripping my gun in my hand. My heart is banging through my chest.

  “Bye!” he yells, as he hangs up the phone and puts it in his pocket. Clink! I accidentally step on a can. He quickly turns around. Damn! We lock eyes, and he takes off. He’s quickly approaching the backyard. I’m right behind him, but his youth is taking over on me. He stretches on me. He has a big lead on me now. This kid is fast as hell. Oh shit. Slim said they have guns in the backyard!

  He runs up the steps and reaches for the doorknob. I can’t let him get inside. I aim and squeeze. Boc! Boc! Boc! Boc! “Aghh!” he cries, as he falls to his knees. He tumbles down the steps. I aim my gun at him and ease my way over to him. I don’t know if he has a gun on him. He tries to get up, but he falls back down. As he reaches for the banister, I clunk him across the head with my gun. “Aghh, please!” he begs. He rolls over onto his back. He puts his hands in the air and curls his knees up to his chest. He looks me in the eyes. “Please don’t kill me! Please!” he begs. I clunk him again. “Aghh, please!” he cries.

  “Shut the fuck up, punk,” I shout. I can see the fear in his eyes. He’s terrified.

  As I stare into his eyes, my nephew’s face flashes in the place of his. I have a nephew close to his age. My mind is playing tricks on me. “Please don’t kill me,” he begs. My nephew’s image disappears. I slowly put the gun to his head. He opens his mouth to scream, but he’s so scared nothing comes out. The tears are rapidly dripping down his face. I squeeze. Click! I squeeze again. Click! And again. Click! My gun is jammed. The kid is laying there with his eyes wide open. I smack him with the barrel of the gun. Smack! A speed knot swells instantly on his forehead. I smack him again. Smack! And again. Smack! He begs me to stop, but I continuously pistol-whip him until blood has covered his entire face. He’s a bloody mess. Besides his face, his jeans are also bloody from the gunshot wound. He lays there barely conscious. I grab his head and slam it onto the concrete twice. Thump! Thump! He doesn’t respond; not a cry or anything. I stand up and kick him in the face one last time before running out of the backyard.

  I jump in the car. Slim already has the car started up. Before I can fully get my entire body inside, he peels off. Sccuurr!

  “Damn, my fucking gun jammed on me.”

  “Did you finish him?”

  “Nah, I hit him from a distance, and then when he fell, I ran up on him and the gun jammed.”

  “Shit!”

  “I fucked him up though. I pistol-whipped him something terrible.”

  Slim looks over at me. “Bang Man, you got blood all over you!” I look down. I’m covered with blood.

  “Big Time, you might have made a big mistake by not killing him.”

  “Slim, it wasn’t my fault. I tried to kill him, but the fucking gun jammed. I guess it wasn’t his time to go.”

  I replay the scene in my head. Maybe I should have kidnapped him, killed him, and dumped his body somewhere. That kid saw my face. Slim is right; this could be dangerous. “Psst! Psst!” Here he goes with his teeth.

  Even though I didn’t kill him, Sean knows I tried, so basically I still proved my point to them. Now they know I don’t give a fuck about them, and I’m ready to take it to the limit just like they are.

  CHAPTER 36

  Two weeks later

  I know, I know, my 90 days are almost up, I’m supposed to be finishing up.

  I haven’t seen or heard from Junebug or his goons since the last incident. I guess they’re laying low like I am.

  Little Rah Rah’s funeral was last week. Me and Slim didn’t make it. I paid for the entire funeral. The total cost was about $9,000. It was the least I could do, I feel so guilty about his death. I sent Slim over to Rah Rah’s house with the dough. Slim said his mom was so high, he doesn’t think she even realizes he’s dead. Before he left, she begged him for some Bang Man. Isn’t that crazy? Her son lost his life behind that dope, and that’s still her main concern.

  As far as A.J.’s murder, I haven’t heard a word about it. Maybe his girl knew less than I thought. It’s a shame I couldn’t make it to his funeral, but I just couldn’t show up knowing that it was my fault. This is something that I’ll have to live with forever.

  Businesswise things have slowed up drastically. The other day, Juan only had two birds for me. And as for the dope, I haven’t taken any from Juan since the incident with Mike. The Doctor refuses to cut the dope for me. He’s scared Junebug will kill him. There’s no need for me to take it. I can’t cut it, and I don’t know anyone who can.

  This beefing shit is really getting to me. I can barely make any money.

  Right now, me and Slim are on our way to drop the kids off at school.

  “Daddy, when can we go back to our house?” Ahmir asks.

  “Soon,” I reply.

  “Why do we have to stay at the other house?” Ahmad asks. “Is someone going to shoot at our house like they shot at Pop Pop friend’s house?” Here goes Ahmad with one of his famous questions. “Daddy, is someone trying to get you?”

  “Ahmad, why do you ask these crazy questions?”

  “I don’t know,” he replies.

  “Why do you think someone is trying to get me?”

  “Because you carry that gun everywhere,” he replies.

  His answer shocks the life out of me. “What gun?”

  “That gun under your shirt!”

  “What gun? I don’t have a gun!”

  “Uh
huh, I saw it! It’s silver!”

  “No, you didn’t!”

  “Uh huh, yes I did,” he insists.

  “Ahmad, you didn’t see a gun, and you better not tell anybody that! Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” he whispers.

  “Listen, nobody is out to hurt me, OK? If anyone ever hurts Daddy, ya’ll will have to hold it down. Can ya’ll do that?”

  “I don’t know,” Ahmir whispers.

  “You don’t know! What do you mean, you don’t know? You’ll be able to hold it down. Do you know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the man!” I shout. “Both of ya’ll repeat after me. Say, I AM THE MAN!”

  “I AM THE MAN!” they repeat.

  “Say it again.”

  “I AM THE MAN!” they both shout.

  “That’s right! Give me a high five.” Clap! Clap! “I’ll see ya’ll after school. Remember…,” Ahmir cuts me off.

  “I know, I know, after basketball practice, wait for you at the security guard’s desk, and don’t come outside until you get there,” he says sarcastically.

  “Right!” I confirm. They’re tired of me drilling them over and over, but I have to. I don’t know what Junebug will do next.

  After I escort them into the building, me and Slim ride around making our daily drop-offs and pickups. There isn’t much to pick up, being that I only have a little bit of work.

  Hours Pass

  At 1:30, my phone rings. “Hello?” I answer. No one responds. “Hello!” I repeat.

  “Yo, Cash!” the caller shouts. It’s Junebug. “Are you there?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “That’s fucked up what you did to my little man,” he whispers. “I didn’t expect that from you. You crossed the line. We could have handled this like family. You know, we could have went in the backyard, just me and you, put the boxing gloves, on and did about three or four rounds, shook hands, and it would have been over. But now we have to get into some gangster shit. Cash, I didn’t want to do this, but you made me. I sat back and thought about it. You really disrespected me. At first, I was going to let you slide, but my pride won’t let me do that. For the past two weeks, I’ve thought about it over and over again. This issue has to be dealt with.