“I’m disappointed,” said Renardo. “And so I’m sorry for what I have to do.”
“What?” said Miss Temple.
“I have to take action for this slight and the lie you told me. It’s nothing personal.”
“What you gonna do?” said Miss. Temple, her voice rising. “I got people to protect me in case you thinking about hurting me and I got Jesus. I fear no man and no instrument formed against me shall—“
“Yeah, I know,” said Renardo standing up. “I know all that shit Reverend Payment says in church and I know why he gave you that cash. He is going to get a piece of what you will get for selling this house, right?”
“That’s none of your business,” said Miss Temple straightening her back. “And his name is Paymer, not payment. I know what people call him behind his back but you respect him in this house.”
“You notice he’s not here right now, standing behind his investment,” said Renardo. “And do you know why? Because Payment knows I got to take action against someone for this deal going bad. And he knows it ain’t gonna be you. I’d never hurt an old lady. Bad for business. But your grandson here might get hit by a car on his way to the store one night, or he might just not come back home at all and then you won’t even be able to collect the insurance I know you got on him. And you got his mama, Camelia, who lives three streets over and got them other four grandbabies by the three different brothers. Girl can’t keep them legs closed, can she?”
“I think you need to leave my house, young man,” said Miss Temple. “Now.”
“Did you know that just last week, a little girl was found in an alley, beat up, violated and pumped full of drugs,” said Renardo. “There’s a lot of perverts ‘round here would pay cash money for a young girl. Two of them grandkids is girls, ain’t they?”
Miss Temple’s eyes were so wide, it looked like they would just roll out of her head.
“You get out of my house, devil!” her voice cracked. “Bramah, throw him out!”
Renardo looked at the grandson and now Renardo’s face was no longer neutral; he had a look that Bramah had seen many times. You see, in the ‘hood, a lot of shit is very nonverbal, you get a sense of danger and just how far you can go. Deals made with the devil cannot be rescinded on a whim. They are always paid in flesh.
“We need to keep the deal,” said Bramah quietly.
“What?” said Miss Temple. “Boy, are you out of your feeble mind?”
“No grandma,” said Bramah. “I’m sorry I caught that case and put you in this situation but Renardo is right, you don’t do this to people round here… not to him.”
“He don’t scare me,” said Miss Temple.
“You ain’t supposed to be,” said Bramah a little too loudly. “Listen to the man.”
Miss Temple looked at her grandson and though he was a dimwitted boy, he was not one to lie or exaggerate.
Then she looked to Renardo and finally saw it. He would kill her family and think nothing of it. He had probably done it many times and now he was here in her house. Death. And she had let him in. Satan was indeed a beautiful Angel who never hid, but fooled you with his normalcy. It had been right in front of her and she just didn’t want to see it. She should have let this dumbass boy go to jail.
Renardo took out the money and some papers and held them out. Miss Temple took them with shaking hands and signed the contract, all the while cursing.
“This ain’t right,” said Miss Temple.
“Thank you,” said Renardo, taking the quitclaim deed and other papers. “I will bring your money tomorrow by cashier’s check. And like we agreed, there will be a cash amount. You will have two months to live here without any rent but then you have to go.”
“God’s gonna get you,” said Miss Temple.
“Not really,” said Renardo. “I’ll ask for forgiveness and he’ll forgive me. It’s a really good deal, this Jesus thing.” Renardo got up, turned and walked to the door.
“Get the hell out of my house!” said Miss Temple. “Lowlife sonofabitch!”
Renardo stopped and Bramah jumped up, almost knocking over his chair and jumping in front of his granny. He was about to say something, when Renardo held out a hand, silencing him.
“I could be upset at you for talking to me that way,” said Renardo, “but I know you’re used to it. The men these days are so full of bitchassness that women have forgotten those old rules, the old time, when if you talked against a man, he’d slap the shit out of you. Your worthless grandson here and the man who obviously left your ass years ago, all bitches.”
Renardo picked some lint off his suit and flicked it into the air where it drifted up and away.
Bramah was about to piss his pants. He waited for Renardo to reach into his jacket, pull out a gun and then shoot him. He’d hit him in the leg or the arm, something that wouldn’t kill him but would hurt like hell. Or, he’d pull out one of them nightsticks and hit his granny over the head and stomp her until he broke something. But he didn’t. Renardo brushed off his sleeve and looked back at the old woman.
“See, I believe in that,” Renardo continued. “I believe that women need to be kept in check by reminding them that God made us bigger and stronger to protect, to kill food for the table and to fuck you up when you forget your goddamned place in the order of things. All these ladies in the ‘hood now walk around like they got dicks between their legs. That’s why none of y’all can keep a man past Thursday. See, a man would have gotten the money you needed some other way. He would not have sold his home and then tried to slide out of it, but you’re not a man, you’re an old woman who was used to trading on her ass for everything. Well, nobody in life gives a shit about you anymore. So, the next time you see me, you talk with respect or I will go back on my old lady policy and I will be the last thing you see before you go to meet Jesus.”
Renardo waited a second, knowing that they both would be terrified that he would be moved to violence. In truth, Renardo did not have a weapon on him but they didn’t know that.
He turned and left, walked outside and got into his car, a black GMC that was driven by his man, Kelvin, an ex-con who was on probation for distribution.
“She do it?” asked Kelvin.
“Why you ask a dumbass question like that?” asked Renardo settling in.
“Sorry.”
“I had to give her the God made men speech.”
“I love that speech. It’s Sam Jackson cold,” said Kelvin.
“He only wishes he was as cold as me,” said Renardo. “And his name is Samuel. Man don't like to be called Sam. Got half a mind to go back in there and smack them store bought teeth out of that old bitch but you know I’m trying to change and shit.”
“You doin’ good, boss,” said Kelvin. “You ain’t fucked up niggas nearly as much this year as you did last year. Last year was like whoo!”
“I’m a businessman,” said Renardo, as if reminding himself. “A CEO don’t shoot muthafuckas if the profits is down. I know they want to, but they’re civilized. So, how many more we got today?”
“Two more,” said Kelvin. “Mr. Wilson already signed and we just need to pick up his papers.”
“I like that old dude. I’ma give him a little bonus for being so cool.”
“Well, don’t get happy yet. The Melvins still say no. They the only ones on that block not to sell. Rev. Payment got to them, too.”
“I need that whole block to complete that patch,” said Renardo sounding frustrated. “They the ones with the kids that live in Texas.”
“Yeah,” said Kelvin. “They ain’t got no, what you call it?”
“Vulnerabilities,” said Renardo. “When a man’s got vulnerabilities you can make him do anything. I’ll worry about them later. Let’s go.”
**********
Kelvin hopped on the freeway and drove out of the city. The sky was looking angry and he hoped it didn’t rain. That shit would freeze and you’d be driving on ice. He hated that.
They
traveled on M-14 headed toward Ann Arbor. They stopped in a little city called Plymouth and pulled into a breakfast place that specialized in waffles. In the back, sitting at his usual table, was the man Renardo was looking for.
He didn’t like coming to meet him. Man always wanted to go way outside the city for some reason and Renardo hated the way suburban white folks looked at him, like some animal got out of its cage.
“I don’t get it,” said Renardo sitting down across from the man. “You live in Grosse Pointe but you never like to see me in the city.”
“I got my reasons,” said the man whose name was Thom Ross. “This place has no security cameras and they don’t allow any cell phones or computers. You can talk here.”
Thom was forty-five or so and had at one point been the CEO of a tech firm. He’d bought some small companies and sold them for big money. Unfortunately, he bet big on the tech market and didn’t get out before the bubble burst.
He lost everything and got a job working for a data services company owned by the Bell family, one of the state’s richest clans. He had hit the jackpot and married their daughter. There was new money, old money and Bell money. Their Ancestors went all the way back to Detroit’s trading post days.
Thom finally found a woman worthy of his lost greatness when he met Sandra Bell. She was a rather plain girl and he was the handsome but poor employee who had crapped out of the big time. They were married within a year.
Thom was now one of the biggest property owners in Detroit. He had been buying up lots and depressed houses in the ‘hood since 2008 and had accumulated quite a big tract of land. Thom was a visionary, just like Renardo.
He’d found Renardo by accident when the two of them were trying to get the same property. They joined forces and so far it had been very lucrative.
Thom had told Renardo that he was making moves in real estate because his wife’s family kept a tight hold on the money. He was looking to get his own funds and get out.
Renardo had agreed because it was a good deal and also, Thom was a player. He acted refined but underneath, he was a hard man who would get his no matter what. You had to respect that.
“You really wear fucking sunglasses in the winter?” asked Thom.
“Cool has no seasons,” said Renardo.
“How’d you do today?” asked Thom.
“Good,” said Renardo. “I got a problem on that block by Van Dyke but I’ll figure it out.”
“We need that block,” said Thom.
“Don’t worry,” said Renardo.
“But I do worry because it represents a significant investment and upside. I’ve been entrusted to deliver it all intact.”
“I know all that, man. Just let me handle it.”
“Listen, I wanted to see you because things have changed a little. After we secure that block, we should settle up and close out.”
“What?” said Renardo. “We ain’t near where we want to be yet.”
“Again, that’s why I wanted to meet in person,” said Thom. “The plan has changed for me and I don’t like delivering bad news on the phone.”
“Changed? How?” asked Renardo his voice rising. “Don’t be fucking with me, man.”
“I needed to do this real estate thing before,” said Thom. “I was in a cash bind and this was my way out but now, I’m good. I can trade my real estate position to some big buyers and cash out. But don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you. I can give you what we agreed to plus ten percent.”
“What we agreed to was that I’d be a millionaire,” said Renardo removing his sunglasses. “You said we’d build a company and run property management together. Black and white kings, remember that shit?”
“Like I said, things have changed for me. I am offering you the cash equivalent of the shares I promised plus a ten percent bump. You should be dancing.”
Renardo began to laugh softly, then louder. “I see. You fuckin’ me. It’s all nice and business-like, but this is an ass rape with no muthafuckin’ Vaseline.”
“You’re pulling three times out of this what you put in,” said Thom. “How is that screwing you over? Plus, you made a friend who can bring you into any legit deal I come across from now on. Win-win.”
“It ain’t what I did this for. Everything is in your name because of my record. All I had was trust and you’re using that against me now.”
“Renardo, you have got to learn to see the bigger picture,” said Thom. “That’s why I’m in business with you because you're not like those dumbasses in Detroit.”
“You mean other niggas,” said Renardo.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” said Thom. “Don’t try to intimidate me with that word. You are not a nigger and that’s why I like you. But you have got to think outside the box more.”
“You drag me out here to whitey land and then drop this on me thinking I’m not gonna act out because I’m in Plymouth. Fuck Plymouth. You don’t know who you talking to.”
“So what you gonna do? Threaten me? Resort to violence? Go on. Let’s see who wins that one. You may not be a nigger but you are still black.”
“Okay,” said Renardo. “Instead of resorting to gangsta shit, let’s just call it twenty-five percent over my payout and we can be done.” He put the sunglasses back on.
Suddenly, Thom laughed and clapped his hands together.
“You, are good, my friend,” said Thom. “You have really learned from me, haven’t you? Okay, so we’re negotiating now.”
“You got things to lose, too,” said Renardo. “Don’t think your fancy partners would like to come to a meeting and meet me and maybe hear about how we do what we do in the city.”
“Twelve percent,” said Thom.
“Twenty.”
“Fifteen.”
“Seventeen.”
“Done,” said Thom. “Now see, that’s business. I can have your money by the end of next month. Just bring me those last few properties, including the Van Dyke tract and we’re good.”
“We’re gonna split fifty-fifty on anything now, including today’s business,” said Renardo.
“No way,” said Thom. “Same deal, same split.”
“Then, you go into the city and talk some old black folks out of their home,” said Renardo. “I’m sure they will welcome you.”
Renardo leaned back confidently in his chair. Thom stewed but knew when he was beaten.
“Fine, fifty-fifty,” said Thom. “Now who’s getting screwed?”
“Stop crying,” said Renardo. “Just have my money ready on time.”
Renardo got up and walked out of the restaurant. He looked cool but his mind was already working out a plan of action and behind his dark glasses, his eyes raged with cold anger.
6
INFO
The sun was going down around five or so when I got home, it was dark out. The news crews were gone and I was happy to see my street free from those vultures.
I used to admire reporters when I was a kid. They were kinda like information cops. They didn’t carry guns, but that microphone and the camera could do just as much damage.
Now, they all seemed like liars, opportunists and whores. They don’t seem interested in the news or even in facts. Perhaps we have all become too cynical or maybe we finally see them for what they have always been.
I got out of my car. A light snow had been falling for over an hour and it had settled on everything. That first light blanket of snow told you not to get your hopes up until April.
I lived in a section of the city called Rosedale Park in an area now called the Blue Mile because so many cops lived there. The city had given us free houses and then quickly reneged on the deal when they filed bankruptcy.
I walked toward my house, when I saw my next door neighbor’s front door fling open. He had been waiting for me, watching all day, I bet. I took in a deep breath, preparing myself.
“Danny!” said the man named Lenny Johnston. He was white, about forty or so and worked for the city in
some obscure department with “Planning” in the title. He was married to a black woman, which he felt made us kindred spirit. He padded out to me, wearing a robe and slippers.
“Long day, Lenny,” I said trying to convey a message that I did not want to be pestered.
“I know and my condolences but I wanted to talk to you, about the case,” said Lenny.
“There is no case,” I said, “and if there was, I could not talk with you about it.”
“I got some theories,” said Lenny, ignoring me. “I know the IAD is probably snooping around but they won’t find anything, code of silence and all.”
Lenny was an amateur detective. He loved those TV shows where they find killers in thirty minutes and the movies, where the police leveled a city block to catch one bad guy.
“I’m tired Lenny and we are in mourning. I can’t talk.”
“Okay,” said Lenny. “Just one thing. The cell phone. The killer is probably on the dead girl’s cell. If you get it—”
“Her name is Ivory and I am sure the police are on it. Now, I gotta go. It’s cold as hell out here.”
“Man, I’m never going to get used to hearing that voice come out of your face.”
“Lenny, come back in. Hi Danny,” said Lenny’s wife Stephanie. She was considerably younger than Lenny, still in her late twenties and had two kids that were not Lenny’s. Not a bad deal for her, I thought. Lenny was a pest but he was loyal. No price tag on that.
“Okay, just talking shop,” said Lenny. To me, he said: “Think about it and let me know.”
He walked back to the house and I saw Stephanie give me a sympathetic look. I nodded my head, then headed into the house.
Vinny was waiting for me when I got inside. RMC was crawling around trying to stand up.
“He’s still trying,” I said. “He’s gonna make it soon.”
Vinny kissed me as I took off my coat and hat and shoes by the door. She’d been very affectionate since the death and I was not complaining about it. I knew she was worried about me.
“That Lenny out there?” she asked.
Grind City Page 6
